Dangerous Love
by Lulai
Summary: Jarrod is trying to make the best of a position he never wanted. Fiona is alone in the middle of a large family. When both of their lives are in danger, will they turn to each other? I'm afraid the Death Star will be fully operational CHAPTER 29 & 30!
1. The Decision

I'm _baaaaaaack_! yay! Welcome to my third story. It's been kickin around in my head for a while, so I decided to write it down. It might go a little slower than my other stories in terms of updates, but I hope you'll like it.

It's based off of the 'Twelve Dancing Princesses' (well, as much as my other stories were based off of their counterparts) but mostly, it's my own. It's not as action based story as the others, but, you know me, and I can't stay away from action, so there will be some.

Woot!

Oh, and please excuse the title. It was really the only thing I could think of.

Chapter One: The Decision

King Jarrod Fer Drewery sat in his chair at the head of the table, seriously considering just jumping out the window and running away. The sun was shining brightly and, really, it wasn't _that_ far to the ground.

"Your majesty?"

Jarrod snapped out of his reverie and turned to look at the curious gazes of the men surrounding the table.

He sighed. "I'm sorry; I did not catch what you were saying."

The Earl of Havara's lips tightened. "As I was saying, majesty, I have been having more problems with these bandits. Just last night, they stole half a flock of sheep!"

Jarrod was beginning to get annoyed with the Earl. The annoyance was probably fuelled by the ridiculously heavy and hot blue cape that Jarrod had to wear and the ridiculously hard chair he had to sit on.

"Haven't I sent you several troops of guards already, Havara?" Jarrod asked.

"Yes, your majesty, but they are obviously ineffective, as indicated by the stolen sheep," Havara replied. "Not that you are to blame for that," he added quickly, noticing the narrowing of the king's eyes, "but I feel something must be done, if only to keep my nieces in acceptable living standards."

Lord Turnbull raised an eyebrow at the Earl. "You have nieces?"

"Yes," Havara said with a slight nod. "The poor things' parents passed away about ten years ago, leaving me to raise them. All I want to do is raise them with all the advantages young ladies of rank should have."

Jarrod sympathized with the unnamed nieces. He had also lost his parents, and his older brother, and he knew the pain of losing loved ones.

"It seems that this situation has slowly spiralled out of control," Jarrod began slowly, steepling his fingers together. "It started with a little money, and then a few cows, but half a flock of sheep? What is next? A herd of horses? A wagon full of gold coins?" He shook his head. "Do you have any idea who would be behind these robberies?"

Havara shrugged. "I have suspected the villagers, your majesty, but even the villagers need a leader, and I have no idea who that would be."

Jarrod gave a small smile. "That would be a 'no' then?"

Havara glared, but nodded. "Yes, that is a no."

"Your plight bares further scrutiny," Jarrod announced, rising from the table. "I myself shall escort you back to Castle Fer Havara and see if we can put an end to this string of misfortunes."

The blood drained from Havara's face and his mouth hung open. "Your majesty, there is really no need-"

Jarrod held up his hand. "No buts, Havara. That is my decision. This table is dismissed."

Jarrod turned on his heel and walked from the room in a swirl of blue cape.

He collapsed on his ornate bed after throwing his cape on the floor. His brother had the room done up in a busy gold and red style with a huge four poster bed and several chairs around an enormous fireplace. Red and gold tapestries hung on the walls with a thick red and gold rug on the floor.

Jarrod hated it.

But every time he started to take something down, he felt a wave of guilt so strong that he just left everything as it is. He felt like such a fraud renovating the room. It wasn't supposed to be his; it was supposed to be Marcus'.

A knock sounded on the door.

Jarrod raised his head from the pillow that he was currently face down in and called, "Who is it?"

"Your two favourite people in the world," came the wry response.

Jarrod rolled over so that he was at least sitting on the bed. "Come in."

Tyrell and Warren entered the room.

Tyrell, Jarrod's younger brother, crossed his arms. "I heard something interesting today."

"Oh?" Jarrod lay back with his hands behind his head. "What?"

"That you are leaving."

"Just to visit Castle Fer Havara and see what is happening over there."

"And who is going to look after things here?" Tyrell asked.

"I thought you would," Jarrod admitted. "I was going to ask, but I wanted a break before I approached you. Who informed you that I was leaving anyway?"

"Lord Grindol," Tyrell said.

"Ah," Jarrod murmured, closing his eyes.

"He's stopped listening to me," Tyrell complained to his cousin. "I hate it when he does that."

Warren nodded.

"He needs a wife. That way I don't have to nag at him constantly," Tyrell said, only half-joking.

"I tried that once," Jarrod interjected. "Remember how well that turned out?"

Tyrell turned back to his brother. "Belinda wasn't your fault. Everyone could see that she was an unfaithful strumpet."

"Everyone but her fiancé it seems," Jarrod murmured.

Tyrell put his hands on his hips. "God, Jarrod. This self-pitying act is so annoying. Maybe you should go on this trip. Then you can at least get out of this God-awful room."

Jarrod opened his eyes and gave a little half-smile at his brother. "It really is awful, isn't it?"

"Why haven't you changed it?" Tyrell asked.

Jarrod's expression sobered. "It was Marcus'."

Tyrell nodded, but then shook his head. "I don't know what Marcus was thinking."

Jarrod smiled again. "He did seem to go a little overboard."

"A little? He has enough gold in here to feed Castle Fer Drewery for three years."

Jarrod laughed and stood. His younger brother always put him in a better mood. "I should start packing."

"Would you like some help?" Warren asked.

"Robertson will take care of it, but I want to make sure he doesn't just pack my banquet clothes to spite me," Jarrod said.

Tyrell laughed. "That's a good plan. When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow, I think," Jarrod said. "It's not that far to Havara."

Jarrod conversed with his valet in quiet tones, going over what he wished packed as his brother and cousin stood waiting patiently.

Tyrell clapped a hand on his brother's back as they exited the room. "Are you going to ride your horse, or are you going to get pulled in a carriage?"

"Of course I'm riding Thunderbolt," Jarrod said indignantly.

Tyrell grinned. "I'm just making sure that you haven't gotten so out of shape that you can't even seat on your own horse."

Jarrod winced. "Actually, I think sitting on that throne has conditioned my rear more than all the horse riding in my youth."

Warren smiled at the two brothers. "I must leave you here. There are a few things I must do before I eat dinner."

"Like what?" Jarrod asked.

"I have a couple letters to write," Warren said.

"Letters?" Tyrell asked with a sly grin. "To a young miss maybe?"

Warren blushed. "I'll see you at dinner."

"See you then," Jarrod said.

As Jarrod climbed into his huge bed that night, he thought about what Tyrell had said. It was good that he was getting out of the castle, for a short period at least. He smiled slightly. For the first time in a long while, he looked forward to the next day.


	2. A Meeting

Yay! I've finished another chapter! I've begun to read them through carefully now, and I don't put up a chapter until I have another one behind it, so that I can change things as needed. That's why the updates are not as regular. They will probably be mostly over weekends.

But I'm glad so many people liked the beginning!

**naughty little munchkin:** Yay! My first reviewer! I am going to try switching points of view, whether by chapter or within the chapter, I don't know. You should go for it. I think that this story is one of the easiest to manipulate. I'd certainly read it.

**rainkisser:** Another story? But, seriously, if you do write a story like that, I could probably hug you. All your stories are so great. :cD And I also use 'QAWINKY-DINK'! w00t!

**Tiger Lily21:** Hmm... Nope, just coincedence, I guess. But, there is something interesting about the names in Fiona's family. See if you can guess. ;c)

**fell4adeadguy:** I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll try and make this story extra good to make it up to you, okay? XcD

**Glaze: **Haha! You are about half right. Or a quarter. Anywho, I'm sure you'll figure out half my story based on this here chapter. You're a quick one!

**Dragonblade Goddess: **Awesome. I hope it meets your expectations.

**Dreamer at Heart:** Darn those teachers and their 'computers at school must be used for classroom type work' and such. This story isn't going to be _exactly _like the 'Twelve Princesses' but it does have a couple similarities.

Thanks for all the pre-emptive support!

whoa-bam!

Lulai

Chapter Two: A Meeting

Lady Fiona Fer Havara had no idea why a meeting was called in the solarium, but she wasn't going to sit there idly. After receiving the summons from her eldest sister, she had gathered a load of mending and brought it to the room.

Fiona rather liked the solarium. It was very bright and sunny. She made a mental note to come to the room more often. She could do her sewing there.

As she had the fortune to be the first one there, she chose her seat carefully. She sat down on a cushion by the bay window and pulled her basket up beside her.

She shook out the first skirt and sighed. Genevieve. She set about stitching the long rip down the thigh.

The sisters filed in, in small groups. They said hello to Fiona who smiled at them softly, her needle flashing in the sun.

"Are we all here?" Annabelle asked, after looking around.

Daphne nodded. "Yes. Bernadette is the only one who isn't able to come as she didn't want to leave her children."

Annabelle nodded. She began to pace, a habit she only did when she was nervous.

"I have disturbing news," she started. "I have received word from Uncle Edward that he is returning shortly." Her lips pressed together. "And the King is accompanying him."

"And?" Daphne's twin Elizabeth asked.

"And, I would like it known that I do not want to see any of you in the King's presence without Fiona or I chaperoning you."

"Why?" Harmony asked curiously.

Annabelle stopped pacing and gave a stern look to all her sisters. "If you have all forgotten, he had quite the rakish reputation."

Genevieve shrugged. "He has been a veritable monk since he ascended the throne."

Annabelle sighed. "You do not trust a wolf to look over sheep merely because he hasn't eaten one in a while."

Iphigenia frowned at her sister. "You do not trust us enough to be able to resist the King's said charms?"

"No, Nia, I do trust you. All of you. It's King Jarrod I don't trust."

Josephine looked decidedly amused by the entire situation. "I'm probably too young for King Jarrod to even take notice of me."

"Nevertheless," Annabelle said. "I do not want any of you around him without myself or Fiona."

Fiona felt her heart sink a little despite herself. She knew she was no great beauty, but she would like to think that maybe the king would want to ravish her as well.

Fiona shook her head and concentrated on the chemise in front of her.

"Who brought the missive?" Cassandra asked, her voice belying her hopefulness.

"Geoffrey, I believe," Annabelle replied.

"Geoffrey," she breathed. Annabelle covered a smile with her hand.

"I want a formal approach before anything happens," Annabelle said in a semi-serious voice.

"Of course, of course," Cassandra agreed, but her expression was still dreamy.

"Now, I would like to remind everyone here about our obligations," Annabelle said. "We cannot let the king find out about us."

"Of course not," Nia said with a wave of her hand. "We shant let anything slip, almighty overseer."

"Then I would like you all to prepare for dinner," Annabelle said brusquely with a clap of her hands.

The sisters went their own ways until only Annabelle and Fiona were left.

"Thank you Fiona," Annabelle said.

"For what?" she asked, her needle flashing faster the only indication that she was irritated.

"For understanding."

"Of course." This time, Fiona couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. "I'm glad there is someone around here that the king wouldn't even think of scandalizing."

"Oh Fiona," Annabelle said, sitting down beside her. "I didn't mean it that way. You are just so much more level headed than the rest of us. I know you'll keep us all in line."

Fiona gave her sister a smile, even though she was still a little wounded inside.

"That's my girl," Annabelle said, hugging her quickly. "Now, I must prepare for dinner. I will see you there."

Annabelle held open the door and Fiona's cat quickly skidded in between her feet.

Annabelle smiled at her. "Someone to see you," she said before closing the door behind her.

Fiona set down her mending and held out her arms. Mittens jumped into them and pushed her head against her breast, purring.

"Hello, Mittens," she said, stroking her blond head.

She sighed softly, still petting her cat. She thought that she was over this small problem.

"I just want to be unique like the others," she confessed to her cat. She had to smile at the irony of that statement.

"Mrow?" Mittens responded.

"I even named you 'Mittens'," Fiona said. "As if that wasn't the most ordinary cat name in the world."

She left the mending basket tucked neatly beside the window and walked to her room, still holding her cat.

If only she wasn't so… ordinary. She wasn't an eyesore, but compared to her stunningly beautiful sisters, Fiona was plain. She rather liked her dark hair with its highlight of red, but it was always pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Besides, the colour didn't seem to do much but clash with half her wardrobe.

She pushed open the doors to her rooms, artfully in shades of lilac. She loved lilacs. They were her favourite flower.

She glanced in the mirror. Her walking had pulled the bangs that she had cut in an effort to get noticed a year ago out of their clips. She let out a frustrated breath and set Mittens down on the vanity. She pinned the errant locks of hair back into place. In a few more months they would fit back into her bun.

She brushed the white cat hair off her chest.

"Milady," called her maid Elsie, "do ye need some help ta get inta yer gown?"

"Yes, please, Elsie," Fiona called.

"Oh, milady, isn't it excitin'? Tha king's comin'!" Elsie announced flouncing into the room. "Ye'll have ta wear tha silver dress. It goes so well with yer eyes!"

Fiona smiled in acceptance. The dress was actually more grey than silver, but Elsie was right. It was the best dress she owned. Her eyes weren't exactly grey either. They were actually blue on the outside that turned to green around her pupil, but from a distance they did seem a murky grey.

She could barely contain another sigh. If only her life echoed her eyes. She seemed to be murky and dull both from a distance and from close up.

But as Elsie pulled on her dress, she felt a glimmer of hope. She gave a little half-smile. Maybe this rakish king would shake things up a little. They certainly couldn't get any duller.


	3. Dinner

New chapter! yay! The characters are all coming together! I'm kinda sick again, so I haven't been writing as much (it's a little hard to think when your head feels like it's stuffed with cotton balls) but I've been trying. I'm also noticing that my chapters are getting longer when I leave them for a couple days and come back. It's nice. ((is slightly drugged up))

**fell4adeadguy:** It is a very long title. I thinkTDP is an acceptable acronym, although it almost sounds like a drug. I think that everyone should write a version of TDP. It's an awesome story to expand on.

**Dreamer at Heart:** ((sigh)) Teachers. Anywho, okay! Update!

**Tiger Lily21:** It's the easiest way to keep them organized. ;cD I hate being the 'responsible one' too. You'll find out soon! Well, maybe not, but you will find out!

**rainkisser: **I love your TDP story. I should have written a review, but I was too busy. I'll write one as soon as I'm done here (well, I guess I don't really need to write that, but whatever). Pretty much, although I do all my sowing by machine, not hand. I made a jacket just last month. It's really nifty. And yes, Jarrod was a bit of a lady's manat one point in his life. Stuff happened, however, and he changed. Yay for stories!

And Hooray for Fisherman's Friends!

Yours in sickness and in health

Lulai

Chapter Three: Dinner

"Mount up!" the Earl called out. They had stopped for a small respite a few leagues from the castle to rest the horses. Jarrod climbed onto his horse.

"How much farther, Havara?" Jarrod called, rubbing his smooth chin. On the advice of his brother, he had shaved off his beard, but now he was missing it. It also made him look younger, which he wasn't sure was a good thing.

Jarrod was slightly anxious to be off again. It was getting late, and he didn't want any trouble. After all, he was going to Havara's castle to investigate a series of robberies. To think that they would pass up robbing a king was unlikely. Jarrod did take some precautions. He wasn't carrying much gold on him, and he had left the heavy gold crown back in Drewery. At the moment, he was wearing only a sash underneath his cloak that indicated his rank. He also had a gold circlet in his pack, just in case.

"Not much farther, Majesty," the Earl replied. "Another hour, no more."

Jarrod was dying for some conversation and the Earl was better than none. "How old are your nieces?" he asked.

The Earl thought carefully. "They range in age from fifteen to six and twenty."

Jarrod nodded. "And how many are there?"

Again, Earl paused and Jarrod swore the man winced. "Ten."

"Ten?" Jarrod asked, shocked.

"There are two sets of twins," Havara said by way of explanation.

"Ten," Jarrod repeated, shaking his head.

Jarrod stopped and cocked his head. There was a strange sound that seemed almost like thunder, except the sky was a clear blue, darkening to violet at the edges.

"What is that sound?"

"Yer Majesty! Move!" a guard behind him said.

"Yah!" Jarrod yelled to his horse, kicking his flanks. Thunderbolt moved out of the way just fast enough.

A huge boulder fell to the spot where Jarrod and his horse just left. A dozen or so smaller rocks had joined in the rock's fall, creating a small avalanche. If Jarrod had still been there, he would have been quite flat.

"Are ye alright, Majesty?" the guard asked worriedly.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Jarrod said, brushing some dust off his sleeve, "thanks to you. What's your name, soldier?"

The guard straightened his shoulders. "Linden, yer majesty," he replied with pride.

"Well, Linden, you have the thanks of your king," Jarrod said. "Remind me when we return to Castle Fer Drewery to give you a proper reward."

"Thank ye, Majesty," Linden said, bowing from his horse.

"Shall we continue, Earl?" Jarrod asked Havara. "This accident has done nothing but whet my appetite. I am eager to reach the castle."

"Of course, Majesty," the Earl replied. They continued on their journey.

As they travelled through the little streets of Havara, Jarrod noticed that although the shops seemed well-kept, they still looked a little plain, as though the shopkeepers didn't have any money to spare. He made a mental note to ask Havara about this. Perhaps he was right, and it was one of the villagers behind the robberies.

"I'm sure my nieces have arranged for you every comfort," Havara said as they walked up the stone stairs after giving their horses to the groom to look after.

"I am quite anxious to meet them," Jarrod replied.

Iphigenia burst into Fiona's room as Fiona sat by her window crocheting. It was a lovely white cap for Daphne's head. She had already finished Elizabeth's in brown for their coming birthday.

"He's here!" she burst out, coming to look out the window. Fiona was lucky enough to have a window at the front of the castle and she quite enjoyed watching the comings and goings of the common folk.

"Oh?" Fiona replied, not telling her sister that she had been watching the king for nearly the entire time he was in the town. She couldn't see much, just that he was tall and blonde.

"Don't tell me that you've just been sitting at this window and haven't seen him," Nia accused. She picked up Mittens and began to stroke her head.

"I've been crocheting," Fiona began, but she could feel the blush creeping across her cheeks at getting caught.

"Ah-ha! You have been watching him!" Nia crowed. Fiona scowled.

"I just wanted to know what he looked like," she defended herself.

A knock at the door interrupted Nia's next words.

"Yes?" Fiona called, putting down her hook and wool.

"Lady Annabelle called everybody ta tha table, milady an' milady," Elsie said from the door.

"Thank you, Elsie," Fiona replied, brushing the wrinkles out of her grey dress.

"Let's go meet him, Fiona," Nia cried, grabbing her hand.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she laughed, forcing her sister to go slower.

They reached their customary seats at the table just before the herald announced the Earl and the King.

"Your majesty, may I announce my nieces?" Havara asked. The girls moved into a line.

Jarrod counted. There were only nine women in the line. He was about to mention that fact when the eldest stepped forward.

"Bernadette sends her deepest regrets at not being able to be here," the dark haired woman announced. She wore a dress of the deepest purple.

"The eldest," Havara announced, "Annabelle." She curtsied as her name was said.

He gave her a nod.

"Cassandra." Another brown haired woman stepped forward and gave a curtsy. This one wore a dress of light pink.

"Daphne and Elizabeth." The twins, both with stunning red blonde hair and dresses of different shades of blue, stepped forward and bowed.

"Fiona." A girl with reddish brown hair stepped forward and curtsied. She wore a modest dress of grey, unlike her brighter coloured sisters.

"Genevieve and Harmony." The second set of twins stepped forward. One wore a forest green frock, and the other a yellow that looked almost gold against their dark hair.

"Iphigenia." A blonde girl in a red dress stepped forward and curtsied.

"And, finally, Josephine." The youngest girl in a dress of pale purple curtsied to him.

Jarrod's neck was starting to get tired from all the nods he was giving.

"Your Majesty," Annabelle said with a curtsy, "welcome to our castle. If you have any questions or are in need of anything, do not hesitate to ask. Fiona or I will give you all the assistance you need."

"Thank you kindly," Jarrod said, watching the girl named Fiona. She kept her eyes downcast.

Fiona was trying not to look at the king. He looked much bigger up close than he had through the window. Out of the sun, his hair looked like rich amber, a beautiful golden colour that had just the slightest curl in it.

And his eyes! They were a deep, deep brown, bordering on black. A girl could drown in those eyes. No wonder he had such a rakish reputation with a visage like that. Women would no doubt have thrown themselves at his feet.

Fiona almost giggled at the image of women literally throwing themselves in front of him, but managed to swallow it and keep her face calm.

They sat for dinner. Fiona took her normal helping (which she couldn't help noticing was twice what her sisters took) and concentrated on her food as if it were going to run away.

After the second course, however, Fiona began to half-listen to the conversation around the table.

"Ten children," the King was saying. "However did your parents manage?"

"Well," Fiona answered without thinking, "as this isn't really the thing that one can plan, I imagine they were just persistent and lucky."

The entire table went silent. Fiona realized what she had said and wanted to slide under the table. Her face turned pink.

The king began to chuckle. Soon, the entire table was in laughter. Even Fiona had to laugh in spite of herself.

"I imagine your parents loved each other very much," he said, offering her an olive branch.

She smiled at him. "Yes, they did."

After that, dinner was easier.

Dessert was a beautiful marzipan castle, fully decorated with candy icing and small flags. Fiona thought it was almost too beautiful to eat, but gave in and had an entire tower.

After the dessert, the talking around the table flowed almost as much as the punch. Genevieve and Nia were holding a small debate over the different breeds of horses, and Cassandra and Annabelle were discussing fashion.

Jarrod, however, was distracted slightly from the conversation by the thoughts of the woman sitting a little ways down the table from him. Fiona had said little else that evening, but she had left Jarrod intrigued. It was rare a woman who could laugh at herself.

It was her smile that caught him as well. It was slightly lopsided, exposing a dimple on her left cheek. It was natural and charming and obviously not practised like Belinda's.

Jarrod almost jerked at his thought of his ex-fiancé. He mentally shook his head free of his thoughts and stood.

"I believe I shall retire," he stated calmly. "Would one of you be so kind as to show me to my quarters?"

Fiona stood slowly, noticing Annabelle's absorption in her conversation. "I will accompany you, your majesty," she said.

"Wonderful." He offered her his arm and she took it.

Fiona led the way. They walked down the hallway in silence, the only sound being their feet on the carpeted floor. Finally, they arrived at what would be his rooms.

The King turned and took Fiona's hand in his. Her heart beat a little faster in spite of her internal commands.

"Thank you," he said, kissing the back of her gloved hand. He gave her a little half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and entered his rooms.

Fiona felt a little unsettled. It wasn't the kiss on her hand, although that was nice, but rather his smile that haunted her steps all the way back to her rooms.

She wondered who had broken it. A past love? A death?

One thing was for certain. There was not a woman alive who could look at a smile like that and not want to fix it.


	4. Muffins

In honour of my reviewers (all three of them! XcD) I will present you with two chapters! I actually wrote them as one, but split it into two when I saw how long it was. But they do go together so I'll put them both up now.

**rainkisser:** True, but as I said, it's not _exactly_ Twelve Dancing Princess'. More like TenCool Earl's Nieces. ANYWHO, I'm trying to keep this one a bit more real. Lark's havinga bit of a rest from his last story. So I'm glad it's coming out that way. :cD

**panemonium:** I hope so too. I really like your story too! It's a great start. I know I should actually go review it on yours, but I wanted to let you know here too. yay!

**Dreamer at heart:** thank you! I'm feeling less sick, but more stuffy, if you know what I mean, so I got down to some serious write-age. Here it is.

The chapter after the next one (Chapter 6), we get some real plot man. WOOT FOR PLOT!

Lulai

Chapter Four: Muffins

Jarrod woke up in a surprisingly pleasant mood, and for the first time since he could remember, didn't want to just go back to sleep. He climbed out of the moderate sized bed and dressed himself without the help of his valet.

He thought about what he was going to do. He was quite certain that the other ladies would not be up at this hour. It was still fairly early, the sun casting an orange glow over his room.

If he ever got the courage to redo his room at the castle, he would do it like this. The room was subtle, with wood tones accented by maroon and navy blue. It was masculine without being stifling. He pulled the sash across his chest and rubbed his chin absentmindedly.

He poked his head out the door and saw a maid carrying blankets walking down the hallway.

"Excuse me," he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Oh!" she squeaked, surprised. The blankets she was carrying tumbled to the ground. "I'm so sorry, yer majesty," she stammered as she tried to pick them up again, bowing several times.

"It is of no consequence," Jarrod said, bending down to offer her assistance. "What's your name?"

"Elsie, yer majesty," she responded. "I hafta get these blankets to milady's room. We washed 'em an' so we can replace her old ones."

Jarrod folded the last purple blanket and placed it in her arms. "Are these Josephine's?" he asked, noting the colour. "I saw that she was wearing a similar purple last night."

"Nay, yer majesty," Elsie replied, shifting them in her arms. "These are milady Fiona's. They're her fav'rite colour, aye, but donna ye be callin' them purple! They're lilac. Milady's quite adamant about that! They're her fav'rite flower, lilacs are."

"Is your lady awake, then?" Jarrod asked, committing the fact to memory.

"Aye! Milady's always an early riser. Donna need much sleep, that one!" Elsie laughed. "I think she's in tha solarium."

"Thank you," Jarrod replied. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine, yer majesty," Elsie said with a firm nod. "Thank ye for helpin' me."

Elsie continued on down the hallway. She turned around and gave him a look. "Are ye comin' with me ta tha solarium or not?"

"I thought you were heading to your lady's bedchambers," Jarrod said, catching up to her.

"Aye, I am, but tha solarium's on tha way," she said. She led him down the hall.

"Right through there, yer majesty," Elsie instructed with a tilt of her head.

"Thank you," Jarrod said with nod.

"Yer welcome, Majesty," Elsie said. She attempted to curtsy, but was afraid of dropping the blankets. She inclined her head instead.

Jarrod opened the door to a brightly lit room. Fiona sat in the corner, putting the finishing touches on a white hat.

"Good morning," he said, stepping into the room. He left the door open.

"Oh, your majesty," Fiona said, rising. She curtsied. "I did not realize that you would be up so early."

"I didn't think that anyone else would be either," Jarrod said, indicating that she could reseat herself. "I was delighted to find out that someone else was an early riser." He sat himself across from her in a delightfully soft chair.

"Indeed, your majesty," Fiona said, picking up her wool.

"That is a lovely cap you are…" Jarrod trailed off, not knowing exactly what she was doing. It was like knitting, but she only had one needle.

"Crocheting," she supplied. "Thank you. I am making it for Daphne. I already have one made for Elizabeth. They are to be their birthday presents." She raised her eyebrows at him.

Jarrod interpreted the look correctly. "Your secret is safe with me," he said, holding up a hand.

"There," Fiona said, tying off the stitch and cutting it with a small knife from her basket. She shook the cap out and folded it, hiding it on the bottom of her wicker basket.

She pulled a small bell pull. "Can I offer you something to break your fast?"

"Yes, please," he responded.

She went to the door and talked with the maid there before returning to her seat and pulling a dress and a needle and thread out of her basket. She began to re-sew a piece of lace onto the hem of it.

Jarrod looked into the basket, noting all the torn clothes, and wondered if she had to mend them all herself.

"Do you always have to do the mending?" he asked, growing slightly angry in spite of himself. Did her family always treat her like this? Give her dowdy old clothes like the brown one she was wearing at the moment, and make her do chores that befitted a maid?

She laughed, which eased his mood slightly. "There is no 'have to' about it, your majesty. I enjoy mending and altering clothes. It gives me something to occupy my eyes and hands, while leaving my mouth and mind free for talking and thinking."

"Is this your dress?" he asked. The blue would look lovely on her.

"Heavens, no," Fiona replied. "This is a dress that I am altering for Iphigenia. It used to be Cassie's but is now too small for her. However, Nia is slightly taller than Cassie, so I had to take the hem out and redo it. I am just replacing the lace, then I will be done."

A maid entered with several muffins and two cups of chocolate. Fiona laid aside the blue dress to take a muffin.

"Carrot!" she exclaimed after ripping it in half and eating the top. "Carrot is most definitely my favourite flavour of muffin. What about you, your majesty?"

Jarrod felt a small smile tug at his lips. He couldn't help it; her good mood was infectious. "Blueberry," he replied, before taking a bite of his own muffin.

"I shall have to tell Cook that," Fiona stated, reaching for a second muffin. "I'm certain he can make blueberry muffins for tomorrow." She ate her second muffin with obvious enjoyment.

It was strange to see a woman who enjoyed eating. Most just took a little bit on their plates to avoid any ounce of roundness on their bodies. Not that Lady Fiona would have a problem with that. Even the baggy brown dress couldn't disguise her figure.

Belinda would have only had a bite of muffin, Jarrod thought with a start as he watched Fiona round on her third.

"Your majesty," she said seriously, "you must take another one or else I am likely to eat them all."

"I'll forgive you this time," he said with a small smile, "as they are your favourite. If they were blueberry, I'm quite sure our positions would be reversed."

She smiled her dimpled smile at him and finished her muffin.

"What else do you do besides crocheting and mending?" Jarrod asked.

"I enjoy knitting, although I usually do that when I'm alone," she responded. "The clicking of the needles often irritates people. I also like reading." Fiona almost winced. Saying it out loud just showed how dull her life really was.

Jarrod wondered what she was thinking that would pucker her brow so. "Do you ride?" he asked.

"No, your majesty," Fiona responded with a shake of her head.

"No?"

"No," she replied firmly.

"Why not?"

"Fiona? Are you in here?" interrupted Nia, sticking her head into the room. "Oh, your majesty. I didn't see you there." She entered the room and gave him a curtsy. "What are you two doing?"

"Talking," Fiona said with a raised eyebrow.

"I was actually inviting Lady Fiona out for a ride," Jarrod expanded as Nia crossed over to them. "You are welcome to join us."

"I would love to, but I'm not so sure about Fiona. She's quite afraid of horses," Nia said, sitting on another of the many chairs in the room.

"Really?" he asked, turning his head to look at Fiona in surprise.

A slight blush covered her cheeks, and her needle flashed faster. "Perhaps."

"What about them scares you?" he asked curiously.

"She thinks they are going to bite off her hand," Nia explained for her sister, "with their 'large teeth'."

"Most of them are actually quite gentle," Jarrod said to Fiona.

"Nevertheless, I am not riding," Fiona responded.

"Oh, come on, Fiona," her sister pleaded. "Ride with us."

"Absolutely not."


	5. The Ride

Chapter Five: The Ride

Fiona wasn't exactly sure how they did it, but ten minutes after her final refusal, she found herself seated on top of a horse. A rather tall horse. King Jarrod's horse, in fact.

"He is as calm as a spring morning," Jarrod said, stroking the nose of the large tan horse.

"Why is he named Thunderbolt then?" Fiona asked, trying to stop her voice from shaking. Her hands were gripped in the reins so tight that her knuckles were white.

Jarrod gave her his broken smile. "My brother named him."

"Oh," Fiona said, itching with curiosity, but not wishing to push the matter.

"Oh, Fiona," Nia chirped from on top her own horse. "You'll see. Riding a horse is thoroughly exhilarating."

"If I don't die," Fiona mumbled under her breath. It was an awful long way to the ground.

"Nonsense," Jarrod said, soothing her as much as the horse. "I will personally vouch for Thunderbolt."

Visions of Thunderbolt reaching his head around and biting off her foot played in Fiona's mind. He was a stallion, wasn't he?

All Thunderbolt was really doing was flicking his lips at some hay.

Jarrod mounted another horse, a dappled grey stallion named Cloud.

"Why couldn't I ride a horse with a nice name like Cloud?" Fiona muttered to herself. "I get 'Thunderbolt.'"

"Because Thunderbolt is actually a little smaller than Cloud," Jarrod explained, his hearing obviously superb, "and a little older, making him calmer."

Fiona resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

"Let's go!" Nia exclaimed impatiently.

Fiona took a deep breath. She could do this. The horse wasn't _that_ big. And all her sisters rode quite regularly without injury.

"Okay," she said.

She made a clicking noise at her horse, kicking at its flank with one of her feet. Thunderbolt started forward obediently.

They rode their horses through a small meadow and into the forest on the east side of the castle.

"I love coming in here," Nia said to no one in particular. "It's so calm and peaceful and – Fiona if you post, it'll be easier on your rump."

"If I had any idea what posting might be," Fiona replied through gritted teeth, "then I might follow up with your suggestion." She shifted in her saddle. Fiona felt as if her posterior had been attached to some large torture device.

"Perhaps we can take a break," Jarrod suggested.

"I know the perfect place," Nia said. "Follow me."

They arrived in a small clearing. Jarrod hopped off his horse and came to help Fiona slid down hers. Fiona stumbled, but luckily Jarrod was there to catch her.

The first thing that ran through her mind was that the king smelt really good. Then she realized she was smelling the king.

"Thank you, your majesty," she said, stepping away from him. She really wanted to massage the ache out of her rump, but she wasn't about to do that with an audience.

Nia gathered the horses and led them over to a small patch of greenery. Fiona wandered over to a little stream on the other side of the clearing from the horses.

"Hey, Nia, look!" she called. She pointed to the remains of a small campfire.

"Do you think it belongs to the bandits?" Jarrod asked, intrigued. If they lived in the forest, they might not be some of the villagers after all.

"I don't know," Fiona said dubiously.

"I wonder what they are planning," Jarrod mused, looking around as if a bandit might pop out of the trees at any given moment.

"Probably a midnight raid," Nia conspired.

"Probably an elaborate scheme to steal _all_ the sheep," Jarrod said. Nia laughed.

"Probably nothing," Fiona said slightly irritably, bending down at the water's edge to splash some on her face. She pinned the two errant locks behind her ears again.

"I think I am fully recovered from this morning's ride," she announced, straightening.

Nia giggled. "Technically, it still is this morning's ride."

"Yes, well…" Fiona said. She realized this was less than articulate, but she felt she needed to say something.

"Would you like assistance to mount your ride?" Jarrod offered. She gave him a bit of a glare.

"I think I can manage on my own, your majesty," she said, a hint of frost in her voice.

She sighed as she approached Thunderbolt. Why was she suddenly so irritated with the both of them? It was most likely because she realized what a great couple they would make.

If only her sister wasn't so… everything! Beautiful, interesting, with a cute laugh, and a captivating personality. Fiona might as well give up the ghost right now and join a nunnery.

She had just swung her leg up onto Thunderbolt when he immediately started bucking.

"Ahh!" Fiona screamed as she clutched two handfuls of mane for dear life.

"Lady Fiona!" Jarrod exclaimed.

"Fiona!" Nia said at the same time.

Fiona's grip on Thunderbolt's mane was slipping. A final buck from the horse and she felt herself fly through the air to be caught by a pair of masculine arms.

"Fiona, are you okay?" Jarrod asked. In the back of her mind, she noticed that he had dropped the formality.

"Maybe," she answered in a shaky voice. She pretended the tremor in her voice was from her mishap.

"I think I need to sit down," she said, not quite sure if her legs would hold her.

"Of course," Jarrod agreed, setting her down on a flat rock.

"Oh, Fiona!" Nia cried, embracing her sister tightly. "I was so scared! I felt so rooted to the spot when you were flying through the air. It was a good thing that his majesty was there to catch you."

Jarrod walked over to Thunderbolt, calmer now. His eyes were still a little wild, so he held up his hand and made soothing noises. He examined his horse all over, looking for something that would have irritated Thunderbolt enough to buck.

He was irrationally angry. If he hadn't been there to catch Fiona, she could have broken a bone… or worse.

"Nia," Fiona said to the girl hugged around her, "I might need some air."

"You must not be that injured, if you can still be sarcastic with me," Nia replied, wiping the tears from her eyes with the tips of her gloves.

"No, I'm – What is it, your majesty?" Fiona asked, noticing Jarrod's dark expression.

"This," he said, holding up a shiny metal pin. "It was underneath his saddle. It didn't bother him when there was no weight, but as soon as you sat down, the pin jabbed into his back."

"But why would anyone want to hurt Fiona?" Nia asked.

Fiona and Jarrod shared a look. "It's not me that they were trying to injure," Fiona told her sister slowly, "it was him."

"I believe you are right," Jarrod agreed. "They know which horse is mine, and assumed I was riding it."

"But when did they put in the pin?" Nia asked. "Fiona had no problems coming here."

"Probably while we were inspecting the fire," Jarrod explained. "Those bandits have some explaining to do."

Fiona and Nia looked at each other. "I don't think this is the work of the bandits," Fiona said.

Nia nodded her head. "They don't kill people," she added.

"How do you know?" Jarrod asked, surprised at their defence of the robbers.

"We don't," Fiona explained, "but they have never killed anyone before and they've had plenty opportunities."

Jarrod wasn't sure, but he thought she sounded almost proud. "Do you actually support what these bandits are doing?" Jarrod asked in shock.

Fiona stood up at her tallest, which was about his nose, and looked him in the eye. "Of course not," she scoffed, "I don't condone robbery. But I can't help but admire the bandits. They have yet to get caught."

"Besides," Nia added, "if Uncle Edward didn't tax the poor village almost into starvation, these bandits most likely wouldn't even be here."

"The Earl has placed high taxes on the population?" Jarrod asked, intrigued by this new turn in the case.

"You saw the buildings," Fiona said indignantly. "These bandits' stolen money is the only thing that's keeping some of these people on their feet. I'd give them money out of my own pocket, if I knew that Uncle Edward wouldn't just tax all of it back to him."

"Hmm," Jarrod said noncommittally. "We should get back to the castle."

"You two can take the horses. I will walk," Fiona said firmly. "Or, if you feel obligated, you can have a carriage sent out for me."

"But Fiona," Nia protested, looking pointedly at Jarrod, then at Fiona.

Fiona remembered what Annabelle had said. "Oh, botheration!" she swore irritably. She was really not looking forward to getting back on the horse.

"We can walk back together," Jarrod said.

Fiona shot him a grateful look. "We better get going then," she said brusquely. "Even if we leave now, we'll still have missed the noon meal."


	6. Bandits!

I realize this is a day late, and I apologize. I'm feeling much better (thanks to all the well wishers:cD) but had a very busy day yesterday and didn't have time to update. So, anyway, here we are! Jarrod's first meeting with the legendary Bandits of Havara!

**Banana Nut Muffin:** Thank you! I try to keep my stories as unclichéd while still being ascliché as possible! (If you understood that at all). I love writing original stuff, but I like the colours of fanfiction better. XcD

**CharlyB:** Sorry about this week! I'm trying to keep my updates fast without totally distroying my social life ((Jenn, what social life?))((Shut up)) So, I'll try and get my next chapter up sooner. And I hope Fiona fixes his smile too!

**Tiger Lily21:** I think everyone wants to push them together and make them fall in love. Poor Fiona and Jarrod. I don't think Lark is going to be in this story, sorry. I have pretty much the entire plot thought outand I couldn't find a spot for him. He may get a cameo, though.

**rainkisser:** OF COURSE SHE'S GOING TO RIDE! She tries so hard to not be herself that she turns right around and becomes herself again. I think she's sensible and an individualist. She's just not as loud about it as her sisters. She has a quiet sense of uniqueness.

**panemonium:** Thank you! Fiona's very honest, much to her chagrin. But that's probably what's going to draw Jarrod to her, after his dealings with so much dishonesty. I don't know why the bandits would go after Jarrod. ((shifty eyes))

**Dreamer at heart:** I feel much better now, thank you! That's what I don't like about colds, they tend to stick around for much longer than, say, the flu or something. I'm glad you liked the two chapters.

I don't really know what to say here, guys. So...

Enjoy the chapter!

Lulai

Chapter Six: Bandits!

"Your majesty, I must insist that you take an armed escort with you if you leave the castle," the Earl stated. "Who knows what these bandits are capable of?"

"Of course, Havara," Jarrod responded. He was really starting to actively dislike the Earl. The man had not even asked after the welfare of his niece. And she was the one in actual danger. This thought brought him to the comments Fiona and Nia had made.

"How much do you tax your citizens?" Jarrod asked him, completely taking the Earl by surprise.

"Why, your majesty?"

"I have heard that the taxation is unreasonable," Jarrod said with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I need quite a bit of money to keep all my nieces clothed and fed," the Earl stated.

"I see," Jarrod responded.

"Yes," Havara said, clearing his throat. "I'm sure the peasants are exaggerating. You know how they are; they never want to pay taxes."

"Of course," Jarrod murmured.

"But on to more pleasant matters," the Earl said, changing the subject nervously, "Genevieve and Harmony are presenting a musical interlude after dinner tonight."

"It should be lovely," Jarrod replied. He would look into the Earl's taxation claims later.

Dinner went well. Of course, the entire castle knew about the accident that had happened out in the woods, and everyone had his or hers own opinions about who was behind the attack, most of them centred on the bandits. Her sisters were asking Fiona all sorts of questions. Fiona mostly kept her head down (although it didn't diminish her appetite in any way) and only answered a few of the curious sisters.

After dessert of raspberry crumble, the table adjourned to the music room to hear the entertainment.

"May I escort you?" Jarrod asked Fiona.

She opened her mouth to refuse, and point him in Nia's direction, when she caught a look from Annabelle.

"Of course, your majesty," she said, accepting his arm. She felt as though she could see through the fine maroon jacket he was wearing to the strong arms that held her as if she weighed no more than child. She wondered how he became so strong. She didn't think that being a king was overly physical.

He seated her on a large chair and sat beside her.

Genevieve and Harmony stood up front. Genevieve sat down behind a harp and leaned it back so that it rested on her shoulder. Harmony was blowing into a flute, warming it up.

Jarrod sat back in his chair and quite enjoyed the performance. The twins sang in two part harmony, Genevieve strumming the harp, and sometimes Harmony would play the flute. He clapped appreciatively after every song.

"They are quite good," he whispered to Fiona.

"I know," Fiona responded. "They've been playing together since they were about six years old."

They finished their last song and bowed.

"Thank you girls," Havara said. "But, I believe it's time to retire for the night."

"I suppose," the girls groaned, almost in one voice.

Fiona and Jarrod stood up.

"I wish you all a good sleep, my ladies," Jarrod said with a bow. They all curtsied back and gave him good wishes as well.

…

Something awoke Jarrod in the middle of the night. He quickly climbed out of bed and pulled a white shirt on over his black pants.

He looked out of the hallway and saw a servant running towards him. He stopped him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Bandits, yer majesty!" the servant exclaimed.

Jarrod swore and ran back into his room to buckle on his sword and shove his feet into his boots.

He ran down the hall in the general direction of the shouting, nearly barrelling over Josephine as she stepped out of her room, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"What's all the noise?" she asked.

"The bandits are attacking," Jarrod said. Josephine's eyes widened. He grasped her shoulder. "I need you to gather all your sisters into one room. Do you think you can do that for me?" he asked.

She nodded, her eyes still wide. She ran off in the opposite direction.

Jarrod ran out into the front yard to see a row of hedges on fire. There was a row of people handing buckets of water down a line and they were keeping the blaze in check.

He noticed the guards that he had placed by the sheep's fence were unconscious.

The Earl came out the door. "My sheep!" he wailed.

Jarrod attention was caught by a huddle of white near the other side of the fence.

"Your sheep are still there," he exclaimed to Edward. A thought came to him. "Where do you keep your gold?"

"In my room, behind my bed," the Earl answered, looking for the sheep. Then, the realization hit him too. "My gold!"

But Jarrod was already off and running. He had a vague notion of where the Earl's room was. Luckily, he reached the double doors in no time, as most of the castle staff was out trying to fight the blaze.

Jarrod drew his sword and kicked open the wooden doors.

"Stop!" he yelled to the two cloaked figures, illuminated by the bright moonlight that shone in from the open balcony doors. One stood with a bag, and the other was filling it with the coins. The first figure shut the bag and slung it over his shoulder.

Jarrod began to advance on the two bandits, but the one with the bag flung a dagger at him, pinning his shirt to the wooden door. The second pulled a long bow off his shoulder.

Jarrod reached and began to pull at the dagger holding him restrained, but the dagger was imbedded deep in the wood and held fast. An arrow thunked right next to his hand.

With a snarl, he pulled the dagger free from the wall and chased after the bandits, but they had already disappeared over the balcony edge.

He reached the railing and looked down to see the two robbers slid off the end of a rope tied to the balcony and run into the dark forest.

Jarrod turned from the scene with a growl of frustration and stalked back into the room. Luckily, the bandits had only taken some of the gold. He had stopped them from robbing Havara completely blind.

His gaze was drawn to the arrow in the door. A scrap of parchment was tied to it. He shoved the dagger into his belt and pulled the paper off and unfolded it, stepping into the hallway to read it by torchlight.

_If we wanted ye dead_, it read, _ye would be tonight. But we steal money, not lives._

It was signed, _The Havara Bandits_.

Jarrod folded the note carefully and put it in his shirt pocket. It might be used for evidence later.

Jarrod figured the women would gather in Annabelle's room and headed in that direction.

He sheathed his sword and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" he recognized Annabelle's voice.

"It's King Jarrod," he responded. "Is everything alright?"

Annabelle opened the door. All the sisters were sitting around, looking relatively calm. It obviously hadn't been the first time the bandits attacked the castle.

"Of course," Annabelle said, not completely blocking the king out, but not letting him in either. "I assume the bandits are gone?"

"Yes," he replied. "They escaped into the forest."

"Did you see them?" Harmony asked, or was it Genevieve? It was hard to tell in the shadows.

"I had a bit of an altercation," he said dryly. "I should let you get your rest. I doubt they'll be back again tonight."

"Thank you for checking up on us, Majesty," Cassandra said.

"No problem," he responded, his eyes searching for Fiona. She did not seem to be in the room.

"Where is Fiona?" he asked.

"I'm right here," she responded from behind him. She stood there in a green cape with only a purple – no, _lilac_,Jarrod corrected himself – night gown underneath. Her hair was up in a messy bun and her face was liberally streaked with soot.

"Where were you, Fiona?" Annabelle demanded. "And in your night gown, no less!"

"I was trying to put out the fire and save the sheep," she responded calmly. "Luckily, although sheep aren't smart, they do have a sense of self-preservation. We only had to hunt down two. The rest stayed in a huddle." She turned to Jarrod. "I saw you run back into the castle. What happened?"

"The bandits were trying to steal the Earl's gold," he said. "How do you think they knew about it?"

Nia snorted. :"Everyone knows where Uncle Edward keeps his gold. It's practically begging to get stolen. I keep telling him to move it, but he likes to count it before he goes to sleep."

"If everyone's safe," Jarrod said, "then I think we should all try and go back to sleep. We shall sort this out in the morning."

"Of course," Annabelle agreed. "Everyone, off to bed with you!"


	7. A Visit

Yahoo! New chapter up! I'm so glad it's spring break and that we get TWO WEEKS OFF! w00t! P-A-R-T! Y? Cause I gotta! Haha. So, anyway, I'm glad so many people are enjoying this story.

**rainkisser:** I'm not telling! (at least not here. In the story I will) nyah! But you'll find out soon enough! As a side note, everytime I see 'g2g' I always think of Strong Bad and his 'gee-too-gee' voice.

**Tiger Lily21:** I hate that! And then you try and re-type it but forget half of it, so it just ends up sounding kind of dumb? Ugh. But I love any review from you. Fiona is always doing something. She's not really a sit around type of girl.

**fell4adeadguy:** Uh, yeah. Everyone loves Bandits. Especially the sneaky kind. SNEAKY!

**pandemonium:** Yeah! You're story is really cool! You should update it. perhaps the bandits have a secret agenda. Perhaps they are working for someone. Perhaps they aren't even involved. Who knows? (Well, I do, but I'm not telling!)

**Dreamer at Heart:** Yup. They are alphabetical. Their parents were only really expecting to get to C, maybe D. They had the hardest time with F and I. This is going to sound so wimpy compared to your cross-country runnage, but I had to run5 laps of the field in rugby and I jogged the whole way, never walked! Boo-yah! My legs hurt the next day, though.

**UruvielTinuviel:** Hey, I know how it goes. That's why this one is only updating once a week. Far to busy to pump out a good quality story in my old update schedual. I hope you're having fun in all of that stuff, though.

**Linnath:** I don't really know what you're talking about, but if you do manage to guess, let's try and keep it a secret until it comes out okay? ;c)

**Nosilla:** Thanks!

**secludeddark:** Thank you for the review!

In the honour of Mia, ICE CREAM CAKE FOR YOU ALL! Or, for the lactose intolerant, CAKE MADE WITH LOW DENSITY SOY MILK FOR ALL!

See you next Saturday/ Sunday (because I seem to have a habit of updating late at night, so most of you don't see it until Sunday)!

Lulai

Chapter Seven: A Visit

Fiona lifted the white shirt from her mending basket in surprise. Her lips curved into a smile. Jarrod's valet must have put it in her pile of clothes. She already knew Jarrod's personal views on her mending. She took a small spool of white thread and began to mend his shirt with teeny stitches.

She began to hum softly to herself, one of the songs Genevieve and Harmony had sung the night before. Last night sure had been exciting. She certainly hadn't expected the king himself to chase after the bandits. Although, now that she knew Jarrod, she shouldn't have doubted it.

A knock on the door caused her to raise her head.

"Yes?" she inquired. "Come on in." She wondered who would ask permission to enter. It was the solarium, after all, not a bedroom. Then she brightened. Maybe it was her muffins.

Jarrod stepped inside and a streak of light yellow flew past his feet. "I was hoping that before I start the day's investigation, you would share breakfast with me again. I would love some company."

Fiona smiled at him, picking up her cat and stroking her head. Her sisters really didn't like getting up early. "Of course. I even took the liberty to ask the cook to make blueberry muffins this morning. They should be coming any minute now."

"Excellent," Jarrod responded, situating himself in a chair across from her. "Blueberry muffins are my favourite."

Fiona tried to hide a smile and let Mittens jump down from her arms to curl up in a patch of sun. "So I have heard, your majesty," she said, picking her sewing back up.

Impulsively, Jarrod reached forward to lay his hands on hers. Fiona worried about pricking him with her needle, deliberately ignoring the tingle that flowed through her hands from the touch of his warm ones.

"Lady Fiona," he began, "I would like to think that we have become something of friends. Would you mind if I asked you to call me by a less formal title?"

"Of course not, my lord," Fiona said, her heart hurting just a little from the thought that he was only a friend.

_You are getting fanciful_, she berated herself silently.

He gave her hand a pat and gave her his broken smile. "It's a start in the right direction, I suppose."

"I don't feel right calling you by your given name unless we're more than friends," Fiona said, honestly. Jarrod looked at her with a slightly wide eye expression. She replayed the sentence in her head and began to blush in horror. Oh, curse her open mouth! She might as well just jump out the window right then and there.

"I mean… until we're better friends," Fiona stammered, trying to control the damage. "Not, you know…" she trailed off, realizing she had stuck her foot in her mouth yet again.

"Intimate?" Jarrod suggested dryly. He really shouldn't be embarrassing her, but it was interesting to find out just how red her face could turn.

"Yes, your majesty, I mean, uh… no, uh…"

Jarrod lifted a hand. "I assure you that the thought never crossed my mind." It was the truth, or at least some semblance to it. The thought really hadn't crossed his mind so much as it had come blazing in with trumpets and lodged there permanently.

But that was completely normal, right? Jarrod frowned. She was the first woman to pique his interest since that fateful day three years ago. It was only natural that he was a little obsessed.

"Oh good," Fiona breathed in relief, then, when he frowned, was afraid that she might have insulted him. "It's not that I wouldn't want to be… uh… intimate with you, being as handsome as you are, but I want to be married before that… uh… happens… and I'm not getting married any time soon. But, I don't want to give you the idea that I would commit adultery because I would be faithful to my husband, especially if I love him…" Fortunately, a knock on the door saved her from herself.

Jarrod could have swore that she said, "Thank God," before flying out of her seat to get the door. Her face was the deepest shade of red that he had ever seen.

"Muffin?" she offered, her face imploring him to change the subject. He relented.

"Please," he said, taking one. He raised his eyebrow at the four left on the plate. "It was so kind of you to have rung for extra in case I came."

"Right," Fiona mumbled around her muffin, her cheeks still stained pink. "So, you said something about an investigation?"

"I'm trying to find out where the bandits are hiding out," Jarrod replied after a sip of chocolate to clear the muffin out of his throat. "They ran into the forest yesterday, and we found that fire that afternoon. I think they are hiding out somewhere out there. I just wish I had gotten close enough to see their faces."

"It seems to me that you got close enough, my lord," she said, sticking her fingers through the half of the hole in his shirt that she hadn't yet mended before eating the bottom of her muffin in one bite.

"What the – Is that my shirt?" Jarrod demanded.

"Of course," she said, picking up her needle and resuming her stitching. She looked longingly at the muffins (of which there were only two left) but visible restrained herself and began mending his shirt.

"What are you doing with my shirt?" he asked.

She gave him a sardonic look. "I believe I'm mending it, my lord," she said.

"Well, of course you are," Jarrod snapped. "I mean, why are you mending it?"

"Because it has a hole in it, my lord," Fiona said, her voice belying her own temper.

"Buy why are _you_ mending it?" he asked, frustrated. Jarrod wasn't about to stand for her being treated like a servant in her own house.

"Because I can, your majesty," she snapped back. "Why? Is my mending not superior enough for you?"

Jarrod could tell she was angry by her reversion back to his old title. "It's not that," he attempted to explain, but Fiona had already put his shirt back in the basket and was standing up.

"Where are you going?" he asked, standing up beside her.

"I have things to do, your majesty," she said frostily. "If you'll excuse me."

He sighed and decided to be truthful. "It's just frustrates me to see you doing servants' work."

That caught her attention. She looked at him strangely. "But I enjoy doing it," she replied. "Don't you enjoy anything?"

_Being with you_. The words came unbidden to his mind and he had to bite his lips to keep them in.

"Some things," he answered instead.

"Besides," she continued with a sad smile, "what else am I supposed to do?"

The words affected him deeply. She looked so… lonely. He felt foolish for trying to take away her sewing from her.

He held out his hand. "I'm sorry for my words earlier," he apologized. "I'd be honoured if you would mend my shirt."

She laid her hand in his briefly. "I'm sorry as well. Friends?"

He lifted her knuckles to his lips. "Friends." Another frown crossed his lips and he ran his fingertips over the inside of her fingers. There were some strange calluses there.

"I burned myself when I was younger," Fiona explained, but her voice sounded a little strained.

"How?" he asked.

"I grabbed the handle to a pot of stew that was too close to the fire," she said ruefully. "I had to have it wrapped for weeks."

"Ah," he murmured. Her hand was very warm, unusual in all the hands he had kissed in his lifetime.

She cleared her throat and dropped her hand. "I was going to visit the villagers this afternoon."

"Any particular reason?" Jarrod asked.

Fiona shrugged. "I enjoy looking in on them and see what they are doing."

"May I accompany you?" he asked. This might be the perfect opportunity to see what he could find out about these bandits.

"You don't have to, my lord," she said. "I've done this plenty of times on my own."

"Nevertheless," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I'd love it if you would show me around this town. I haven't seen much except for this castle."

"I have to gather some things before I leave," she said.

"Then I shall meet you back here in a few minutes?" he suggested. Fiona nodded. "Excellent. I look forward to our outing, my lady."

Fiona hurried to her rooms, Mittens right on her heels. Was the king actually trying to _court_ her?

"Nonsense," she told Mittens sternly, as the cat circled her bed, looking for a comfortable place to lie down. "He said this morning that he's investigating the bandits. He's merely trying to look at our villagers."

She wasn't sure whether the last remark made her feel better or worse. She gathered her things and hurried back to the king. She found him inspecting a suit of armour that she had knocked down more than once.

He straightened at her approach and held out his arm, which she took. "Shall we?" he said. She gripped her basket tighter and nodded.

"What is in there, my lady?" Jarrod inquired curiously.

"A few things," she answered vaguely.

"Secrets, Lady Fiona?" Jarrod teased.

"Of course not," she said indignantly. "Just some things that I bring the villagers when I meet them."

They only paused momentarily by a guard at the front door.

"Yer majesty," the guard said with a slight bow, "I'm sorry, but I canna let ye leave here without an escort."

"Alright," Jarrod said with an aggravated sigh. "Linden, right?"

"Aye, yer majesty," the guard affirmed, standing a little straighter with pride.

"Excellent. I know we will be safe with your keen eye on the job," Jarrod said.

They walked down the dirt road, the Jarrod and Fiona in front, and Linden right behind them.

"So, why do you visit these villagers?" Jarrod asked warily. He did not want to insult her again, especially if she was to show him around.

Fiona sniffed. "Uncle Edward would rather cut off his own hand than associate with commoners, or do any sort of work that an earl should do, and Annabelle is far too busy running the rest of the castle. But I feel like the people need to meet with at least one of family, and there are enough of us, so I took it upon myself to make sure the villagers are properly taken care of."

Jarrod didn't think that his respect for Fiona could grow any more, but with this last declaration, it did. She was just so… _good_. No flowery words could describe her better.

"My lord?" she asked, looking at him curiously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Jarrod didn't realize that he was looking at her until she said as such. "Like what?" he asked, shuttering his gaze.

Fiona inspected him closely, her eyes squinting as they searched his face. "I don't know. I just saw it for a second."

"Well," Jarrod said, hiding himself behind a half-smile, "I'm sorry if I was looking at you strangely."

Fiona opened her mouth to reply when an excited cry interrupted her.

"Fiona!" A little girl with two dirty blonde pigtails hurtled towards her at the speed of light.

"Allie," Fiona responded, laughing as the dirty six-year-old clasped her around her knees.

"Come an' see what I found!" the girl said, grabbing the hand that Fiona pulled out of Jarrod's arm. Allie pulled Fiona along until they were right in front of a larger cottage.

The girl dropped to her knees in front of a ring of rocks. Fiona crouched down beside her as Jarrod walked up behind them.

"That's a very impressive beetle you have there," Fiona said.

"Aye!" Allie squealed happily. "I found 'im in Mama's garden an' picked 'im up an' put 'im here!"

"Did you give him a name?" Fiona asked with a look of mock-severity. "I think he needs a name."

Allie's little face scrunched up in thought. "I dunno," she said piteously. "What can I name 'im?"

"Are you so sure that it's a 'he'?" Jarrod interjected.

Allie swung her head around to him and gave him what was probably the most condescending look he had ever received. "O' course 'e's a 'e," she explained. "There _are_ no girl beetles! Girl beetles are budderfies!"

"Butterflies?" Jarrod said with a smile in his voice.

"Aye! Budderfies!"

Fiona looked very much like she wanted to burst out laughing at him. "What about Bentley?"

"Bentley the Beetle?" Jarrod asked with a raised eyebrow, but Allie clapped her hands in delight.

"Bentley tha Beetle! Bentley tha Beetle!" she sang out loud.

"Allie! What's that infernal singin'?"

"None o' yer beeswax, Jamie," Allie said, sticking her tongue out at the lanky figure in the doorway. "Donna ye listen ta him Bentley," she told the beetle. "'e's only nine."

"Ten!" protested the youth. "Fiona! How are ye doin' today?"

"I'm doing fine, Jamie," Fiona said, rising to her feet. "Infernal?"

"It's me word o' tha day," Jamie said with pride.

"It's a very good word," Fiona said, hiding a smile. "I brought you something." She reached into her basket and drew out a large blue book.

"Another one!" Jamie exclaimed, clutching the book to his chest.

"Whatta ye say, Jamie?" called a voice from inside the cottage.

"Thank ye, Fiona," Jamie called out, and rushing back inside.

A round woman started to come out the door and was nearly bowled over by the Jamie's eager figure. She recovered and leaned against the doorframe. "I thank ye, too, milady," she said. She was a little dusty from baking, but was still very pretty underneath all the flour.

"No problem at all, Alexis," Fiona replied, she pulled out a bottle of ale from her basket. "This is a gift for you and your husband," she said.

"Ye're so good ta us," Alexis said with a smile. "Would ye like some biscuits?" Before Fiona could say yes or no, she had disappeared back inside. She came back out with a sack of warm biscuits.

"There's enough in here for ye," she teased, "with a couple left fer yer man."

"He's not my man," Fiona said with a blush. "This is King Jarrod Fer Drewery."

"Yer Majesty," the woman said with a curtsy.

"Milady," the king said, kissing her slightly dirty hand.

Alexis giggled. "Yer too kind, yer majesty."

"We must be going," Fiona said, squeezing her hand. "We have many more people to see."

Alexis smiled. "O' course. Ye come back an' I'll make ye some o' my cookies."

"It's a deal," Fiona said.

She waved to the family and started down off the road to the next house.

Jarrod walked beside her, only half-listening to her idle chatter. He was beginning to wonder if this outing with Fiona was a bad idea. He was quite certain that he was starting to lose his heart.

And he knew that that was the one thing he didn't want to do.


	8. A Walk

What's this? She's updating? It's not a Saturday! My week's all out of wack! I'M SO CONFUSED!

Fear not, kind readers! I am merely updating early because I am leaving tomorrow to spend Easter at my grandparents' house and am not returning until later. So, enjoy the early update!

**panemonium:** I love children; they can give the best looks, especially to royalty, just because they don't really know any better. And I can so see that as a sex talk 'the butterflies and the beetles.' He he.

**secludeddark:** I'm sorry that was confusing. He's basically seeing how kind and nice to the villagers Fiona is, but he doesn't want to fall in love with her (for reasons yet unknown to the readers)

**rainkisser:**I love homestar runner! My favourite one is the one with Senior Cardgage. "Excardon me." Funny funny stuff! Everyone should eat more ice cream! It's even good for you! Weee! And, if you think the sexual tension is good now... ((sly grin))

**Tiger Lily21:** First of all, even though I reviewed your story, I'd like to give it a boost. GO READ THIS GIRL'S STORY! IT'S SCRUMDIDDLY-UMPTIOUS! Anywho, thank you! I wanted to add some villagers (as if my story didn't have enough characters XcD) Fiona has to be strong to be in her family. She just doesn't realize it.

**CharlyB: **Soon, my friend, soon! Jarrod's trying to track them down, but they is slippery lil devils! We find out some more about them, I think, two chapters down the road.

**PrincessofRain:** No, it's more like, he sees how much Fiona cares for her people and how good a person she really is. He explains it a bit in this chapter (but not enough for Fiona, or for you readers, I imagine)

**fell4adeadguy:** Sugar highs are so fun. My friend and I went and saw Robots on a huge super sugar high, and that movie was the funniest thing since, well, ever! I'll have to go again on a calmer day, just to see if it really was as good.

**Dreamer at Heart:** yeah, hehe. I actually kind of like running (afterI get past the pain, the lack of air, and the fact that my body's screaming '_Stop! For the love of God, stop!_') it's almost soothing in it rhythmic repetitiveness. The only problem with sports, (especially rugby) is that it's not rhythmic running. It's like gogogogogoSTOP! gogogoSTOP! etc. Here's an update!

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** It's perfectly alright! I haven't quite reviewed yours, but I have read it! I'll tell you what I think in a sec. If you mean dance dance, I'm not sure. But if you mean _dance_ dance, there's a little bit in this chapter. ;cD

WARNING: Please be advised that there is kissing in this chapter. While it's not 70's porno, it is still a little bit above Disney level (ie: they kissed). It's really not that bad, but if you can't deal, just skip those two paragraphs. Thank you.

Have a happy Easter (if you're into that kind of thing)!

Lulai

Chapter Eight: A Walk

"Fiona! Fiona, where have you been?" Cassandra descended on them as soon as they walked in the doors of the castle.

"Out visiting the villagers," Fiona responded.

"Your sister is very generous," Jarrod said. After they had left Alexis' home, they had visited an elderly couple to whom Fiona gave a box of tea. She gave some knitted washcloths to a young widow, a set of wine mugs for a newly married couple, and a pile of mended clothes to a father with a rambunctious group of four sons. She had a little something for everyone.

"Yes, yes," Cassandra said, waving her hand, "but I the most exciting news!"

"What is it?" Fiona asked.

"Geoffrey proposed!" Cassandra cried with a twirl of happiness. "And I accepted! We're having an engagement banquet tonight!"

"Congratulations, sister!" Fiona said, clasping her around the shoulders in a hug. "He'll make a wonderful husband."

"I know," Cassandra said with a dreamy sigh. Her hands flew to her cheeks. "I must get ready!" she said, and disappeared with a half-skip in her step.

Fiona chuckled and turned to Jarrod. "She's a little excited," she said, unnecessarily.

"I gathered," Jarrod answered dryly. "I shall let you get ready as well," he said with a bow. "Thank you for the wonderful afternoon. Shall I see you this evening?"

"Most certainly, my lord," Fiona replied. Fiona climbed the stairs to her room.

Elsie was there, waiting for her.

"Fiona!" she exclaimed. Fiona was sure she had her name shouted more times this day than any other. "Did ye hear tha news?"

"Yes," Fiona replied.

"Lady Cassandra and Geoffrey are gettin' married!" she continued as if Fiona hadn't said anything. She was currently undoing the buttons on the back of Fiona's dress and pushing her towards the tub at the same time.

"There's goin' ta be a banquet tonight," Elsie chattered happily and pulled Fiona's dress over her head. "We need ta get ye cleaned up." Fiona slipped off her walking shoes with her feet as Elsie pulled off her chemise.

She removed her stockings and stepped over into the large tub filled with lavender scented water.

"I heard ye went out with his majesty today," Elsie said as she pulled the pins out of Fiona's hair.

"Where did you hear that?" Fiona asked. She shut her eyes as Elsie dumped a bucket of water over her.

"From Grieta," Elsie replied with a smirk, massaging some sweet smelling soap into her hair. Grieta was Nia's handmaid and was almost as nosy as Nia herself. Fiona took a deep breath and ducked her head under the water. She shook out her hair as Elsie rinsed the soap out.

Fiona stood up in the tub and held out her arms as Elsie wrapped a towel around her.

Elsie practically skipped over to the wardrobe, Fiona following, trying to wring the water from her hair. As Elsie hummed and hawed over which dress Fiona should wear, Fiona pulled on a clean chemise and stockings.

"This one," Elsie said finally. She pulled out an ivory concoction that Nia had given her.

"I don't think so," Fiona said firmly. "I'll wear the tan one."

Elsie sighed and put the ivory one away, and brought out the nice safe brown dress.

Fiona stepped into the dress and flipped her hair out of the collar. Elsie did up the back.

"What shall we be doin' with yer hair today?" Elsie asked.

Fiona sat down in the chair in front of her bureau. "Brush it please, then braid it and put it in a bun."

Elsie sighed again, but complied with Fiona's wishes. "One day, milady, I'm gonna do somethin' spectacular with yer hair."

Fiona smiled. "But that day, unfortunately, is far in the future."

"Perhaps," Elsie said.

Fiona stood and brushed the wrinkles out of her dress. She descended the stairs and entered the dining room. All her sisters were gathered around Cassandra and Geoffrey. Fiona came up to offer her felicitations.

"Your sister looks very happy," a voice said from behind her.

"I think she is," Fiona replied to Jarrod. "She's wanted to marry Geoffrey for almost two years now."

"Dinner is served," the head waiter announced. All the guests took their seats.

Dinner was great. Fiona had two helpings of everything, three of some of her favourite things (like the garlic rosemary mashed potatoes). She had a brief moment of self-consciousness, when she noticed all her sisters had finished, but then noticed Jarrod taking a third helping of beets and dug into her seconds happily.

After the dishes were cleared away, Havara stood up. However, as soon as all the guests looked at him, he lost a bit of his nerve and looked as though he would have rather sat back down. He took a deep breath and raised his glass in salute.

"I'd like to make a toast to Lady Cassandra and her fiancé Geoffrey," he said, after clearing his throat multiple times. "I hope you two have a lovely marriage and you have many fine children."

Everyone murmured their agreement and glasses clinked as they toasted the new couple.

"Dessert will be in a little while," announced Havara before sitting down.

"Well, I need a walk," Nia announced, stretching and pushing back her chair. "Perhaps you'd like to join me, majesty? I can show you the gardens, although I'm sure they are no where near as elegant as the Drewery Gardens."

"I'd love to join you," Jarrod said, sliding out his chair.

"Fiona?" Nia turned her attention to her sister. "Perhaps you'd like to stretch your legs as well?"

Fiona longed to say no. Walking behind the couple and seeing how well they suited each other was sure to make her heart hurt. However, she couldn't let Nia and the king go off alone, unchaperoned. She nodded her assent and stood.

Jarrod linked his arm around Nia's and they walked into the moonlit garden.

"That was quite the toast your uncle gave your sister," Jarrod commented.

"Nonsense, you tease," Nia laughed. "That was quite possibly the most horrible toast I ever heard."

"I beg to differ," Fiona said wryly. "I do believe the one he gave Bernadette was worst."

Nia laughed again, and for a brief moment, Fiona envied her sister. Her hair glowing in the moonlight, she looked like an ethereal goddess, far too pretty for her own good. She was pleasant and outgoing and flirty, and… everything! Laying her hand on Jarrod's shoulder in a friendly manner as they conversed, she made Fiona feel like a troll. Jarrod must have said something funny, because Nia threw her head back and laughed, her perfect teeth flashing in her perfect mouth.

Tart.

"-And so, your majesty, that's why-"

"Nia!" Genevieve called.

Nia, looking perturbed at being interrupted, turned to her sister. "Yes?" she asked.

"Daphne needs you," Genevieve reported.

"Right now?"

"She said it was urgent," Genevieve shrugged.

"Alright," she sighed and slipped her arm out of Jarrod's. She pushed Fiona up beside him and gave her a stern look. "Don't let him run away; I'll be right back."

She followed Genevieve back up the path.

Fiona turned back to Jarrod with a blush staining her cheeks. She was very fetching in the moonlight.

"So?" she said, giving him a nervous glance.

"I enjoyed our outing today," Jarrod said, slowly continuing their stroll.

"I did as well," she said.

"You are very kind to the villagers," he said.

Fiona shrugged. "Anyone would do the same."

Jarrod's dark eyes were unfathomable in the darkness. "No, many women only care about themselves." Fiona got the feeling that he wasn't taking about women in general. Perhaps this mystery woman was the reason for the pain in Jarrod's eyes.

A tiny flicker of anger licked her heart. The woman must have been stupid beyond belief to have turned her back on Jarrod.

"I'm sure that's untrue," Fiona said, patting his arm lightly.

"It is true," he responded. "Most women aren't so caring, or so pretty."

"Oh," she stammered, flushing with pleasure at his compliment. She decided to change the subject before she said anything embarrassing. She had a tendency to lose control of her tongue around him. "Looks like there may be a storm front moving in," she said.

Jarrod followed her line of sight and saw dark luminous clouds on the horizon.

"They probably won't get here for a couple of days," she continued, "but when they do, it looks like they're going to rain long and hard. It might be nice for that hedge that burned down, either that or drown the rest of the plant that's starting to grow."

Jarrod was having trouble following her conversation. Mostly because he had realized that if he pushed her up against the half-wall, they'd be invisible to anyone looking out from the veranda. He shook his head. He couldn't do this, not to Fiona. But she made him forget, at least for a little while. Her light was already starting to crumble the blackness in his soul.

"I think we're having lemon custard for dessert," Fiona had continued on, not knowing the turn Jarrod's thoughts had taken. "I sure hope so. Lemon custard is my favourite dessert ever." She realized she had been talking non-stop about nothing. "I'm sorry, my lord."

"I'm the one who should be sorry," said Jarrod.

"For what?" she asked, blinking at him in confusion. He wasn't surprised. If half of what he was feeling was showing on his face, she had every right to be confused. And to run screaming.

But she didn't run. So he grabbed her slim hand in his and said, "For this." He pushed her into the darkened wall and kissed her.

Cool, hard stone pressed against her back. Warm, hard male pressed against her front.

Fiona had a million things running through her mind at once but couldn't understand any of them, except for the _Oh, wow!_ that resonated in every inch of her body. One of his hands was resting on her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek. The other was pressing the small of her back, forcing her closer into him. She went willingly, melting into his embrace. His lips were smooth and soft and oh-so-warm.

He pressed harder on her mouth and she answered with a throaty groan. Her lips seemed to part on their own and she could taste the punch on his breath. She was quickly falling into a world where sensation ruled, sensation and the need to be satisfied.

Then he was gone, and where there had been warmth and the sweet friction of his body was now only cold and nothingness. It took a few seconds for her to register that her hands were still up from where she had been grasping the lapels of his jacket. She dropped them, and starting bunching her skirt in her fists nervously.

"Uh…" she stammered. She had no idea what to do. Her cheeks burnedfrom more than just thescrape of his unshaven jaw. The magic of the moment had been ripped away and now she stood in a slightly embarrassed bewilderment. Why had he stopped?

He raised his head. She was prepared to see embarrassment or regret in his eyes, but was taken aback by the sheer horror- or was it anguish?- she saw in their dark depths.

"I'm… I'm so sorry, my lady," Jarrod said.

His words were like a slap to the face. Anger overtook embarrassment. He gave her the most thorough kissing she had ever received, turned her legs to marmalade, and he was _sorry_?

"Sorry for what?" she snapped. "Sorry for kissing me? Or for making me like it? Or sorry for liking it yourself, for that matter?"

That took Jarrod aback. Confusion replaced the wretchedness in his expression. "Well, all three I suppose."

Fiona set her hands on her hips, having had the strongest urge to throttle him. She was quite sure regicide was frowned upon, though, so she settled on giving him a good glare. "Well, I guess I should thank you for your remorse."

Jarrod's eyes narrowed. He obviously hadn't expected sarcasm. "I stopped, didn't I? I didn't have to. _You_ weren't offering any resistance."

Fiona's face flamed. She didn't need him to remind her of her abandonment moments before. "You do want a thank you then."

Jarrod threw his hands into the air. "No, I don't want a thank you! I said I was sorry; what more do you want?"

"What I _want_ is for you to tell me that you were overcome by the mood and the moonlight," she said, poking a finger into his chest, "or that perhaps you were lonely and I was here, or that maybe you just couldn't resist me any longer. What I _don't_ want is to be told you're sorry! God! Do you know how that makes a woman feel?"

He must not have because he stood there staring at her as if she were completely insane. Then something that sounded very much like strangled laughter burst from his lips.

"What?" Fiona said peevishly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jarrod shook his head, the laughter fading. "Most women would have taken that kiss as either a promise of my intentions or an example of the worst debauchery ever. Some women would have insisted I marry them, and most would demand an apology whether I meant it or not. And all you want me to do is say I'm _not_ sorry."

"Yes, well," Fiona muttered. She could see his point, but she couldn't help but add, "It just hurts a woman's feelings when a man says he regrets kissing her."

He gave her a smile. "Then I'll tell the truth. I shouldn't have kissed you."

Fiona was surprised at how much her heart fell at that.

"But I don't regret it at all."

Unable to completely smother the urge to grin like an idiot, Fiona smiled. "There," she said. "That's better.

"Oh, there you two are," Nia said as she turned the corner. "I've come to tell you that dessert's ready. It's lemon custard."

"Marvellous," Fiona replied. This evening was only getting better.


	9. Custard

Hey guys. I hope you all had a great spring break. I'm sorry this is so short, but I feel as though I haven't updated in forever and wanted to get _something_ out there. So please enjoy this little chapter and I will have a longer one up on Saturday.

**Tiger Lily21:** Yay! It was my pleasure to recommend your story. I'm really enjoying it. Fiona and Jarrod are giving me such problems. They aren't really falling in love like I want them too (my stories sometimes take a life of their own). Sigh. I'm glad you liked the kissing scene.

**fell4adeadguy:** Perhaps you _are_ focusing on the important part of the story? ((raises brow))

**secludeddark:** Thanks! I'm glad you like Fiona.

**rainkisser:** You know it, and I know it, but we're going to keep this rather 'T' rated. (They changed all the ratings around! Weird.) Yay!

**Dreamer at Heart:** I know how you feel. I had a rugby game today. My leg is really sore. (I have a fricken huge bruise from one of the rucks) I hope you did well on your Geography!

**Princess of Rain:** Thanks!

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** Thanks. I'm glad you like it. (And I'm not telling)

**littlelambug:** Thanks!

**Areida Rivers:** First of all, thank you for all the reviews! That was really cool. I'm glad you like Fiona. It's great to hear other people say that she doesn't sound Mary-Sue-ish. I'm always worried about that. I try to find something unique about all my characters.

**WildPixieChild16:** Hokay!

**UruvielTinuviel:** I hate it when vacations go that way. I hope your next one is better. I'm glad you like my chapters, though. Speaking of updates, though ((looks expectantly))

**panemonium:** Fiona's so cool. She sure has some strong views, and really isn't afraid to show them. Now that I think about it, she kind of reminds me of my sister.

**Dragonblade Goddess:** Thank you. Yes, I know how finicky computers are. ((mumbles incoherently))

**little miss tiny shoes:** It was a good kiss. It makes me want a kiss like that. Fiona's awesome. w00t!

I'll see you all next Saturday!

Lulai

Chapter Nine: Custard

Fiona scraped the last bit of custard out of her bowl and licked her spoon with pleasure.

"Can I have another?" she asked.

"Fiona!" Elizabeth exclaimed, looking as though she wanted to laugh. "We only have enough for one each."

"She can have mine," Jarrod said, pushing his towards her.

Fiona eyed the custard hungrily, but didn't want to seem completely selfish. "Are you sure? I would hate for you to miss out on this lovely dessert. You haven't even taken a bite."

Jarrod gave her a smile. "Just knowing that you'll enjoy it will be enough for me."

Fiona returned his smile brilliantly and dug in. She was about three quarters of the way through when she steeled her resolve and pushed it away.

"You must eat the rest, my lord," she said to Jarrod. "I'll feel eternally guilty if you don't."

"Nonsense," he told her. "You can finish it if you wish."

"No thank you," she said, her smile faltering. "I am suddenly not feeling great."

"No wonder!" Daphne laughed. "After all that food, and now two desserts!"

Jarrod looked at Fiona closely. Her face seemed to have taken on a pasty quality.

"Lady Fiona? Are you all right?" he asked, rising.

As if to answer his question, Fiona doubled over in her seat, groaning.

All the sisters were up in an instant.

"Fiona! Fiona, what's wrong?" Nia asked, stroking her face.

"It hurts," she moaned, her eyes shut tightly against the pain. "Oh God, it hurts so bad. Please, make it stop."

"Where?" Jarrod asked, his breath catching in his throat. He crouched down beside Nia. Fiona started to shake uncontrollably. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," Fiona sobbed and promptly threw up. She sagged down and Jarrod caught her before she hit her head on the floor. He moved her to where she could lie down, away from the remnants of her dinner. Fiona immediately curled up intoa fetal position, whimpering and shuddering.

"Nia, try to wash her mouth out. You, my lady, get me some bread," he ordered one of the twins, perhaps Elizabeth,while he supported Fiona's head as she convulsed. Nia tried to get Fiona to drink a glass of punch. "You, Geoffrey, go and get a physician."

To his credit, he nodded and ran off to find some one.

"What is bread going to do for her?" Annabelle asked, looking white.

"It might sop up whatever is making her sick," he explained. Annabelle nodded, and Elizabeth (or Daphne) dashed off to find some bread.

"It hurts so much, Jarrod," she moaned, her tears soaking into his chest. Her hand was fisted in his shirt. "Fiery swords. In my stomach. Hurts."

"I know, Fiona," he said, brushing her hair back from her sweaty forehead. His heart nearly broke to see her in so much pain. "We're going to make you feel better."

"Here," Daphne/Elizabeth said, thrusting the bread into his hands. He broke off a small chunk and handed it to Nia.

"Feed this to her, slowly," he said. "And Josephine, if you would give her little sips of punch in between."

The wide eyed girl nodded and grabbed a glass. Slowly, Fiona's moans and shaking stopped.

"That's enough," he told Nia as she ripped off another piece of bread.

"He's right," Fiona said weakly. "I don't think I can eat another piece."

The physician rushed in at that point, Geoffrey right on his heels.

He took in her colouring and listened to Jarrod and Nia's catalogue of her symptoms.

"You did the right thing," the older man said to Jarrod. "I think the only thing left to do is put her in bed and let her sleep. Her body will fight off the rest."

Jarrod nodded and tucked his arm under her knees, lifting her in his arms.

"What are you doing, your majesty?" Annabelle asked.

"I'm putting her in bed," he responded tersely. "She needs rest."

"She can walk on her own," Fiona said in a slightly stronger voice, starting to feel a little embarrassed by all the attention. She did feel very queasy still, however, and completely exhausted.

"As she could barely sit on her own a few minutes ago," Jarrod replied, but his soft look belied the stern words. "I would not like her to overexert herself."

Fiona lay back in his arms, too sick and tired to argue.

"In here," Harmony said, indicating Fiona's room.

He set Fiona down on the lilac pillows. She almost immediately fell asleep.

Jarrod studied her closely. She did not look any worse, although the only way she could have looked worse was if she had started spouting blood. She was still deathly pale with a faint tinge of green, but her breathing was steady and even.

What could have done this to her? Could a simple case of off food be responsible for the tremors that had wracked her frame? Or was it something more sinister?

The physician pulled Jarrod over to talk to him quietly.

"I have seen someone with those symptoms only a few times before in my life," the man said. "I believe she has been poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Jarrod asked, but it confirmed his darker suspicions.

"Yes," the doctor replied, shaking his head sadly. "I'm positive she will live, but it was close. I suspect it might be Foxdoll because of the convulsions, but I'm not sure."

"Thank you, doctor," he said, laying his hand on the other man's shoulder. It was scary to think of. If Fiona had been any greedier or the poison any stronger, she would have been killed.

"I will be back tomorrow morning to inspect her again, just in case something flares up," the doctor told Annabelle.

"Thank you, doctor," Annabelle replied, tears in her eyes. "You saved her life."

The doctor shook his white haired head and gave her a warm smile. "Actually, it was the quick thinking of this young man that saved her life."

Annabelle looked at Jarrod. "Thank you, your majesty."

"No need to thank me, Lady Annabelle," he said. "I am only relieved that I could help."

However, he couldn't help but look at Fiona's door and wonder if he would be there next time.


	10. Discussions

Hello all! ((ducks rotten tomato)) I know, I know, this is really really super late, but it's hard with an entire family monopolizing the computer, plus everything coming to a head. (Yesterday, I left for school at 6:50 and didn't get home until about 9:45) Ugh. Anywho, here it is.

**Tiger Lily21:** Yeah, someone's not to happy with Jarrod (poor guy!) Your story's going great! I see you have a new chapter up. I'll have to go read it.

**Serenic Griffin:** Yeah. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

**fell4adeadguy:** Like ESPN, or something?

**Areida Rivers:** Thank you! So much stuff happens, sometimes I forget the time frame and kind of have to pull it back a little bit. But I'm a firm believer in that one week can change your life. Yeah!

**Elariel Erestorion:** Thank you for reading all of them!

**livingdead2010:** Thanks!

**PrincessofRain: **I'm not telling. :cP

**little miss tiny shoes:** So many questions, and not one of them that I can answer until later. :c( But I'll keep writing!

**panemonium:** Ack! This is so frustrating!I want to write the entire story right now just so I can answer everyone's questions, but I just can't! Fiona firmly believes in the bandits, so I don't think she'll actively go out and hunt them down. I can't say the same thing about Jarrod though.

**littlelambug:** Yeah, I know they're really short, but if it takes me this long to write these chapters, imagine longer ones! I've actually upped my word-count per chapter since my last few chapters, but I do realize it's still short. Hopefully, I can work on that.

**rainkisser:** BECAUSE CHOCOLATE IS FRICKIN AWESOME! I just had chocolate ice cream. Good luck on your test!

**Uruviel Tinuviel:** Yeah. My mistake! I didn't see it! I'm sorry! ((grovels)) Forgive me! Hehe. Yeah, it was Jarrod's that was poisoned. By who? We will find out!

**CharlyB:** Thanks! Here it is (a little late, but it's here)

**Dreamer at heart:** The custard is evil! It's _lemon_!Yeah, we can't go on fanfiction at school except in the journalism room (because we have to be able to go on other sites for stories and such) My calculus always calls me, but usually I smother that calling with ice cream and tv.

**Akwyn:** Thank you! I love romantic scenes (I'm hopeless). Unfortunately, I'm not sure how many I'll be writing in the future (you'll understand what I mean after you read this chapter). There does seem to be a little bit of a pattern, eh?

Thank you all for stickin with me! We'll see when the next chapter gets up. It'll be before next Tuesday, I promise you that.

Lulai

Chapter Ten: Discussions

"You are looking better, my dear," the kindly old doctor told Fiona the next morning as he packed up his instruments, "but I'd still prefer if you'd stay in bed."

"Of course," Fiona agreed. She felt a whole lot better, especially after changing into her nightgown after sleeping in her dress. She sat in her bed as the doctor had listened to her heart, looked in her throat, and gave her some instructions. Annabelle and Nia stood there at the start, nearly smothering Fiona with their worry. It was nice to know that they cared, but they were starting to get a little annoying. After the doctor assured them that Fiona wasn't at death's door, they finally agreed to Fiona's wishes and left.

But now it was nearing noon and Fiona was frightfully hungry. She decided it would be terribly rude to ask the doctor to bring her some food. Besides. He would probably make her eat liver or something equally distasteful. She thanked the doctor and he left.

It would be nice to have the day off and not have to do anything. Fiona smiled and lay back on the pillows.

After about thirty seconds, Fiona was bored out of her mind. She wasn't the least bit tired, so sleeping was out of the question. All the books in her room had been read at least thirty times. She wished she had her knitting, or her sewing, or _something_. There was a welcome knock at the door.

"Come in," Fiona called, hoping who ever it was had brought something to eat.

Jarrod entered, carrying her wicker basket.

He eyed her cautiously, ignoring the feeling in his gut at her dimpled smile. She still looked pale, but did look much recovered from her bout with poisoning. He set the basket down on the large bed beside her and sat in a chair.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Other than a slight aversion to the sight of bread, I'm feeling fine," Fiona said wryly. She pulled the basket close and discovered a new wrapped bundle on top.

"Ah!" she exclaimed happily, unwrapping the two muffins.

"Carrot," he replied with a smile.

As she devoured the two muffins, Jarrod took the moment to give her a thorough look over. Her hair was still up in a messy bun. It made him wonder how long it was. Down to her knees? He dismissed that thought, her bun wasn't _that_ big. Her waist maybe? Perhaps.

Unfortunately, his mind took these thoughts and ran away with them. He imagined her undoing her hair and letting the russet waves fall over her bare ivory shoulder, then her well defined collarbone…

_Stop_, he ordered himself. She had just been poisoned. This was no time for those types of thoughts.

"That's two things I owe you now, my lord," she said, brushing the crumbs off her bed.

"Please," he said. "It's the least I could do after what happened last night."

She heard the strange note in his voice, and looked up into his face. At his bleak look, she understood.

"It wasn't just a case of off milk, was it?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "The physician suspects that it was Foxdoll."

"That grows wild by the forest," she said, "and is used by a few people as incense. Perhaps someone accidentally slipped some into that custard."

"I don't think it was an accident," Jarrod said, his voice laced with anger. "There was enough in there to kill someone."

Fiona gasped, her hands coming up to her lips. It wasn't the prospect of losing her own life that shocked her, it was the thought that someone was trying to kill Jarrod.

"I will find whoever did this," Jarrod promised her. His expression told her exactly who he thought the culprits were.

"You think it was the bandits," she accused.

He gave her an incredulous look. "Of course it was. Who else would it be?"

Fiona shook her head. "I don't know that, but I can assure you it wasn't them."

Jarrod stood up angrily and began to pace. "How can you defend them, Fiona? They nearly killed you!"

Fiona's jaw came up stubbornly. "It wasn't them."

"How can you be so su-" Suddenly, he understood. "You know who the bandits are," he said, incomprehensibly. "God, I'm a fool. I should have seen it before. You defended them so fiercely."

Fiona said nothing, her lips a thin line.

"Who are they, Fiona?" he asked.

"I can't say," Fiona said. "I promised not to."

"Damn it, Fiona," he swore, trying to get through her thick head. "They nearly killed you! They don't deserve your loyalty. If they aren't guilty, I'll find out. Just tell me who they are!"

Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I can't!" she cried. "Don't you think I would if I could? I would like to tell you everything, but I took an oath! I can't go back on my word!"

He wasn't going to stay here and listen to her defend the very people that nearly cost her her life.

"I thought you were different," he hissed at her and stalked out of the room.

Fiona nearly collapsed into tears. She paused momentarily, unsure of what to do. Her pride wanted to keep this to herself, but her heart really needed a shoulder to cry on. Her heart won out.

"Elsie," she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as bad as she felt.

"Aye, milady?" she asked, popping her head in.

"Can you find me Genevieve?" Fiona asked, miming looking through her basket so that her maid couldn't see the tears on her cheeks.

"O' course," Elsie replied cheerfully, and went away.

Genevieve was the one to talk to. She listened and was brutally honest, which always made Fiona feel better. Elizabeth was too flighty and Fiona had neither the patience nor the desire to spell everything out for Daphne as she would have to. Harmony was too shy, Josephine too young. She could talk to Nia, but Nia was part of the problem. She couldn't upset Cassandra's happiness with her petty problems and Annabelle, well, Annabelle would have an apoplexy if she found out that Fiona even had a friendship with Jarrod.

Yes, Genevieve was the one to talk to.

"You wanted to see me, Fiona?" Genevieve asked, walking in without knocking. As soon as she saw the tears on Fiona's cheeks, though, she immediately rushed over to her side.

"Are you alright? Are you feeling okay?" she asked worriedly.

"Yes and no," Fiona replied, wiping away the tears. "Can you close the door?"

Genevieve did as she was bid and sat beside Fiona on the bed. "Now, what are all these about?" she asked, wiping away some that she missed.

Fiona took a deep breath and told Genevieve everything that had happened that morning. It didn't take long. In fact, the retelling made it seem very short and blunt.

"So, what do you want from him?" Genevieve asked.

"Nothing!" Fiona answered hotly. Then she thought about it for a minute. "No, that's not true," she amended. "I want to help him. I want to find out why he's hurting and take it away."

"What if it's something you can't help?" Genevieve asked.

Fiona shrugged. "At least I would have tried. I can't just sit and see the pain in his eyes and not do anything."

"You love him," Genevieve said suddenly.

"What?" Fiona spluttered.

"Or, if you don't love him right now, you're falling for him," she replied with a sly smile.

Fiona opened her mouth to deny it, but found that she couldn't. "Get out of my head," she muttered petulantly.

"Isn't that why you called me in here?" Genevieve asked, an innocent look on her face.

"I said, get out of my head!" Fiona growled. Nothing that Genevieve had said was untrue. She had brought Genevieve in to sort out her thoughts. And she was falling for him. That brought more heartache. How could she be falling in love with a man she could never be with? The pain in his soul seemed to hold him captive. Even if his heart were whole, Jarrod deserved better than her. He was the king. He needed a princess, or at least someone as pretty and talented as a princess.

"I'm so confused," Fiona said helplessly, burying her face in her hands. "And I don't even know if he will ever talk to me again."

"Do you need me and Nia to set you up another assignation?" Genevieve suggested mildly.

"What?" Fiona spluttered for the second time, looking up at her sister. "You mean… in the garden… you two planned that?"

"Of course," Genevieve said. "I thought we were entirely too obvious, but perhaps not. Did anything happen?"

"No, nothing happened," Fiona mumbled, as a blush flew across her cheeks.

"You must give me all the details of that nothing later," her sister teased.

"He's just so frustrating," Fiona exclaimed, waving her hands in the air, startling her sister. "Jarrod Fer Drewery, King of Secrets! Half the time, I feel like I'm sharing him with another woman whose identity I don't even know! It colours all his judgements."

Genevieve put her finger to her chin. "I'll write Thomas in Drewery. If anyone would know anything about this king of yours, he would." She patted Fiona's hand comfortingly. "Don't you worry. Between Nia and myself, we will be able to find everything about Jarrod's past."

Fiona sighed. "I just feel like I've blown it. How can I help him; how will he be able to open up to me when he doesn't trust me?"

"You'll find a way, I'm sure," Genevieve said.

"What if he doesn't care for me the way I care for him?" Fiona asked, struck by a sudden frightening thought.

Genevieve gave her sister another of those sly half-smiles. "I don't think you need worry about that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fiona asked angrily, but her sister was already out the door.

On the other side of the castle, in his room, Jarrod was beginning to regret his outburst. Sure, he was angry, but now that the adrenaline had settled down, he realized that his worry for Fiona had vented itself in a furious outburst. Unfortunately, Fiona was on the receiving end of his rage.

Now that he was thinking more calmly, he was actually rather impressed. She was extremely loyal. He began to wonder what it would be like if he was the recipient of that loyalty.

He sighed. He should really go apologize to her, but he was still a bit angry over her direct disregard for her own safety. And even if he didn't say a word resembling _I'm_ or _sorry_, his very presence would be tantamount to eating crow. That wouldn't do. He would talk to her later.

He had to catch these bandits. Each time they got closer to killing him, the more in danger everyone else was. He needed a trap.

An idea popped into his head. He thought it through. If it worked, he could catch the bandits, and then Fiona wouldn't have to tell, and he could be assured of Fiona's safety. It was win-win situation. He frowned. The only problem would be if the bandits took the bait.

He went off to inform Havara of his plan.


	11. Defense

Heyo all! This is going to be my only update for a little while; I'm going on a band trip for a week, and, although I'll be jotting notes down in my little notebook, I won't be able to write or post. I'm so excited about the next few chapters, though. I hope this chapter explains a few things.

**Tiger Lily21:** yay! Genevieve is pretty cool. I think you always need at least one blunt friend/sister or else you'll never know what to think. Here's the next chapter!

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** Okay. ((wonders what you think you know)) Don't tell me because I probably won't tell you the answer until later in the story. Love isn't always splendid. I think it more-often-than-not makes for more pain than is generally associated with love.

**livingdead2010:** Thanks!

**fell4adeadguy:**Princesses?

**Sirenic Griffin:** ((in a sing-song voice)) I'm not telling! But, yeah. 6:50. I have to be at school by 7:15. Ouchies. I don't usually leave until about 4:00 either. Too much of my life has been spent at school.

**panemonium: **I'm glad you love it! Yay! They just need to get over theirselves and open up to each other, they would be alright. But, they wouldn't be Jarrod and Fiona if they gave it up without a fight.

**PrincessofRain:** Wait no longer!

**rainkisser:** so much chaos! Speaking of chaos, you are _so_ cool! I come on today and you've updated not one, but _two!_ of my favourite stories. I'm going to go read them... now.

**Dreamer at Heart:** Jarrod has a little too much pride to apologize, but he'll probably charm his way out of Fiona's bad books.

**little miss tiny shoes:** Finally, eh? Not that they'll ever admit it to each other in a million years. ((le sigh)) Hee hee! Jarrod's imagination runs away with him sometimes.

Yay for love, and stuff! Weee!

Lulai

Chapter Eleven: Defense

"Another tax?" Fiona exclaimed, slamming her fist down on Alexis' table. "This time my uncle has gone too far. He just taxed you two weeks ago!"

"He says it's ta help repair tha damages done by tha bandits," Alexis explained, pouring some more tea for the two of them.

Fiona snorted unladylike through a mouthful of cookie. "It serves him right, for being such a coward. What makes him think that it won't just get stolen back again?"

"I've heard that he's sendin' it ta Drewery Castle for safe keepin'." Alexis calmly sipped her tea.

"How could the king do this to you?" Fiona asked, drumming her fingers angrily. "He said he'd look into it. This doesn't seem like looking into it."

"He's pro'bly a little busy," Alexis said, smiling as Fiona downed another cookie in an irritated manner.

Fiona frowned and picked up yet another cookie to nibble at the edges while she thought. He darn well better be busy. She hadn't seen hide or hair of him since their argument (which she was still blown away by). That was two days ago.

At least Fiona now knew the name of the woman who held his heart captive. Genevieve, true to her word, wrote a letter to her friend in Drewery and a response came the next day. Fiona was surprised the little pigeon hadn't collapsed of exhaustion.

Prince Jarrod Fer Drewery had been quite the rake in his youth, breaking the heart of every woman from Castle Fer Barrish to the edge of the Great West Sea. Belinda Fer Tolaro had come from across the sea, and with one look at the statuesque blonde, Prince Jarrod had fallen deeply in love. They were engaged within months.

Unfortunately, tragedy struck. King William, his wife Queen Maria, and the Crown Prince Marcus were killed in a fire that also claimed two servants. Prince Jarrod managed to save his younger brother Tyrell, but could not rescue the rest of his family.

He was suddenly King Jarrod, and one of the first things he did was break his engagement to Belinda. No one really knew why, but Belinda was shipped off back to her island where she ended up marrying some distant lord.

Fiona had sat frowning at the letter for several minutes after Genevieve brought it to her. Did he regret sending this Belinda away? Even worse, did he still love her?

"Milady? Fiona? Are ye listenin'?" Alexis interrupted her thoughts.

"Wha?" she said, blinking in confusion. "Oh, sorry, I was wool-gathering."

"Milady, ye were practically huggin' a sheep," Alexis laughed.

"My mind has been wondering a bit lately; I apologize," Fiona said before picking up a cookie.

"Would this have anythin' ta do with that handsome young man I saw ye with tha other day?" Alexis wondered. Fiona nearly choked on her food in surprise. She began to cough and her eyes watered as some crumbs went down the wrong way.

"What are you talking about?" Fiona said, blinking the tears from her eyes.

"Yer man, King Jarrod," Alexis clarified.

Fiona scowled. Were her feelings _that_ visible? "I told you, he's not my man," she said.

"Whatever ye say," Alexis said mysteriously. "All I'm sayin' is that ye're lookin' at him like I looked at Jamie when I first fell in love."

"Yes, well," Fiona mumbled angrily, "whatever you think it is, it's not. If you'll excuse me, I should be getting home."

"I'm sorry, Fiona," Alexis said, laying a hand on hers in an apologetic manner. "I dinna mean ta chase ye away."

"No worries, Alexis," Fiona said, "but I do need to get home. Those clouds are looking ever darker and I think it might rain soon."

"Alright," Alexis agreed and rose from the table to see Fiona to the door.

"Thank you for the cookies," Fiona said, throwing her cape around her shoulders. She wished she had brought a heavier one. The cape she was wearing wouldn't do much against the rain.

"No problem," Alexis said, waving as Fiona walked into the street. Everyone was indoors and Fiona started to wish that she had left earlier.

A rumble caused Fiona to jump and look into the sky. The clouds responded with a drop of water onto her cheek.

"You wouldn't," she warned the sky.

Apparently, they would. Fiona barely had time to pull up her hood before the black clouds opened up with a fantastic torrent. Within a matter of minutes, her cape was soaked through and she could feel the water starting to seep into her dress.

It was already too late to go back to Alexis'. It wasn't as if she could get any wetter, she grumbled. She trudged on, growing more irritated with everything and everyone.

Her skirts were soaked and extremely heavy. Her stupid bangs were sticking to her face and driving her crazy. Water was dripping off the end of her nose and the rain was tapping a steady beat onto her head.

As she approached the doors to the castle, the rain tapered into a light drizzle, then stopped.

This was the final injustice. She was irrationally angry against everything. The guards noticed her black countenance and opened the doors without a word. She trudged indoors, her boot squishing with every step and her skirts leaving little pools of water behind her.

"Fiona!" Nia exclaimed as Fiona stormed into the hall. She and Jarrod seemed to be discussing a particular painting before she arrived. "You look absolutely soaked."

Fiona levelled a positively evil look at her sister, not dignifying her remark with an answer.

"Perhaps we should find some towels?" Jarrod suggested, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Nia nodded with a grin and went to find a servant.

If anything, this made Fiona angrier. She felt like punching something, _anything_, and Jarrod was presenting a very acceptable target.

"Perhaps we should talk about why you are helping my uncle tax my people into starvation," she countered in an icy voice.

"I beg your pardon?" Jarrod looked affronted.

"You heard me," Fiona said, planting her hands on her hips in a defensive stance. "Don't bother to deny it. I was just in the village."

"And how am I supposedly doing this?" Jarrod asked, a trace of anger entering his voice.

Good. Fiona was spoiling for a fight. "You're hiding my uncle's money at your castle," Fiona accused.

"Yes, I am," Jarrod confirmed. "I don't excuse robbery."

"What do you call what Uncle Edward is doing to the people?" Fiona shouted, her hands flying into the air. "The bandits' are merely taking what is owed to _them_."

"Is your life owed to them?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That wasn't them," she growled through clenched teeth.

"Ha," Jarrod scoffed. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know them!" she protested. "They wouldn't hurt me."

"Oh really?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "But they'd have no qualms about killing me?"

Fiona let out her breath in a frustrated hiss. "They wouldn't kill anyone. Why can't you just believe me?"

"If you told me who they were, I could judge for myself."

"I can't tell you!" the chill of her clothes was starting to seep into her skin. "And don't give me that look, your majesty, for I am not the only one with secrets."

"And what would my secret be?"

"Belinda Fer Tolaro."

That stopped him almost dead in his tracks. "What do you know about Belinda?" he asked angrily.

"That you two were engaged, and you broke it off after your parents died." Fiona put her arms around her to ward off chill, still glaring at Jarrod. "Why?"

A brief flicker of pain passed over his face before it hardened into an angry mask again. "That would be none of your business," Jarrod said sharply.

"You see, your majesty? If you're not willing to open up to me, I'm not going to open up to you. Good day."

With that, she spun on her heel and marched to her rooms.

Elsie had a bath ready and waiting for her.

"Thank God," she sighed as she stepped out of her sopping clothes and into the warm tub. She lay there a while, letting everything flow out of her into the water. She very nearly fell asleep, but caught herself before her head dipped down.

She stood up from the tub and wrapped her own towel around her and stepped towards the wardrobe. The only dress hanging there was the ivory gown Nia had given her.

"Elsie!" she called. Her maid reappeared, baring a cup of hot chocolate and two biscuits. "Where are all my dresses?"

"Down in tha wash, milady," Elsie said, setting the tray on a side table.

"You are washing all my dresses at the same time?" Fiona asked uncomprehendingly.

Elsie shrugged. "They were all dirty. An' I thought ye'd have enough sense ta get outta tha rain, so I wasna countin' on ye needed a new dress tonight."

Fiona scowled. "I can't go in that dress, it's positively indecent."

Elsie rolled her eyes. "It's a little low in tha front, but nothin' like yer sisters' gowns. Besides. It's more decent than yer bare skin."

Fiona scowled again, but couldn't think of anything else she could do, other than skip dinner (which wasn't very likely, as it was roast quail. She _adored_ roast quail.) She allowed Elsie to dress her up and tugged irately at the neckline.

"This is not going to work," she whined.

"Ye look positively radiant," Elsie gushed.

"I have far too much skin exposed," Fiona exclaimed. "I feel half-naked."

"Stop bein' so silly," Elsie said, attaching a necklace around her throat.

"I'm not being silly at all," Fiona pouted. She figured she was so put out because she was hungry. She sighed in resignation, if not approval. "Alright. I'll wear this dress. But only because I'm starving."

"Whatever ye say, milady." Fiona frowned at Elsie's ill-concealed grin. She pulled her hair back into her classic bun.

"Hrumph," Fiona muttered unintelligibly. She realized she was in a foul temper, but couldn't seem to (or in truth, want to) stop behaving like a child. She marched resolutely down to the dining room, dreading the entire evening.

Jarrod was sitting at the table, pretending to listen to the Earl as he was telling the story of some hunting trip in which he seemed to take on some impossible odds. He was nodding at the seemingly important moments, something that he had learned to do at a young age, but his mind was on other matters.

How had Fiona found out about Belinda? Luckily, she didn't seem to know exactly what had happened. He was determined to keep it that way.

"So I killed all three stags with a single arrow- Oh Fiona!" Havara said, drawing Jarrod's attention again. "Finally. Now we can eat."

Jarrod looked up and nearly had to peel his jaw off the floor. Fiona was dressed in a dress of purest ivory that set off her collarbones to perfection. It was a far cry from the modest gowns she had been wearing before. Her hair was still back in the bun, showing off her jawline. His gaze came up to her eyes, which were still blazing with anger.

In short, she was magnificent.

"My lady," he said, rising from the table. He noticed that the only seat left was one beside him, and he began to wonder if the other sisters had planned it that way.

"Your majesty," she said with all the warmth of a blizzard. She was still mad at him, apparently.

Dinner was served.

"Fiona, I didn't realize that you even liked that dress," Nia said.

"My other dresses are in the wash," Fiona said flatly.

"Well, you do look lovely," Jarrod said honestly.

"Thank you," she replied graciously, but he could see that she still wasn't happy by the way she attacked her food. He realized he could tell her mood by how she ate.

"Where does she put it all?" Daphne teased. "Our Fiona must have a hollow leg."

A quick flash of pain shot behind Fiona's eyes before she quickly assumed a blanker stare. She began to put down her fork.

"It's a delight to find someone who enjoys food as much as I do," Jarrod said offhandedly while taking another scoop of peas. "Most women I meet eat like rabbits and always make me feel like I am eating more than my fair share."

He wasn't looking at Fiona directly, but he could see her out of the corner of his eye. She was looking at him, and at his defense, her entire countenance softened. He gave her his signature half-smile and her eyes lit up brilliantly, causing a sort of clench in his gut.

The head chief came out, baring a large syllabub.

"I made this meself, yer majesty," the chief said with pride. "An' I didna let it outta me sight for an instant."

"Thank you," Jarrod said, taking a bite of the whipped dessert.

Dessert went by without incident and after all the dishes were cleared, the guests began to push back their chairs. Jarrod escorted the women back to their chambers.

"Goodnight, Fiona, your majesty," Nia said, entering her own room.

"Goodnight," Fiona murmured.

Jarrod and Fiona walked quietly to her room.

"Thank you, my lord," Fiona said finally.

"For what?" he asked.

"For defending me." Her eyes were downcast. "It means a lot. All my life I've been self-conscious about my eating habits and you're the first one who hasn't…"

Fiona looked dangerously close to tears. "No problem," he said warmly. "I meant every word, too. I enjoy your enjoyment of food."

She smiled at him and he was struck by the sudden urge to kiss her until they couldn't remember their own names. Unfortunately, they were in an open hallway where anyone could happen upon them. He grasped on the first thing he could think of to keep the conversation going.

"That is a very lovely dress," Jarrod said.

"I believe you have said as such before," Fiona said, but there was a hint of smile in her voice.

They stood in front of her door.

"Still, it's almost as nice as that grey dress that you wore the first day I met you," he said.

Fiona smiled, slightly self-mockingly. "Yes, that one does match my eyes better."

Jarrod gave her a curious look. "But your eyes aren't grey."

Fiona's heart swelled in her chest, and she decided then and there that she loved him. She didn't care that his heart would never be hers, or that she wasn't worthy of him. She loved him.

"Oh," she said. He lifted her hand in his and her heart started beating double time.

Instead of placing the customary kiss on the back of her hand, he flipped it over and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. Fiona's breath caught in her throat and flare of heat shot down to pool in her abdomen.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, his eyes filled with amusement.

But it wasn't until she was in bed with the blanket tucked up to her chin that she realized it was the first time she had seen anything but sadness in his eyes.


	12. Found

God, I must have the weakest immune system in the galaxy. I'm sick yet again. Fricken hell. But, that's not why this has taken so long. I have just returned from our Band trip. It was loads of fun, but I only had time to type out this short chapter. I swear the next one will be longer. I already have it half-written.

**panemonium:** the Fates (ie: me) seem to favour them, much to their chagrin. They occasionally talk to the earl. Not overly much, though. The Earl has an ego the size of Antartica and doesn't have conversations with anyone under his station, really. Annabelle talks to him, because she basically keeps the castle running, but the others would rather not be patronized. Don't be fooled by his seeming 'generosity'. He only took in the daughters because then he could get his brother's title. His life goals are to get all the daughters out from under his roof and fill their places with gold.

**livingdead2010:** Thanks:cD

**Tiger Lily21:** Yes. The infamous Belinda. We'll find out more about her later. ((mysterious smile)) Fiona'svery tenacious, although Jarrod is prettystubborn himself. It's going to be a fierce battle, but I think they'll both be better off in the end.

**littlelambug:** Thank you!

**Kimmy7: **I enjoy making strong characters, mostly because then I can respect them. I'm glad you like the story.

**PrincessofRain:** Totally. He'll catch the bandits. He's very stubborn like that.

**Dragonblade Goddess:** Yay for fluff! Irritated fluff, to be sure.

**Sirenic Griffin:** My sister pointed out that I did model it after TDP, so the neices had to be doing _something_. I'm such a dork sometimes, which my sister never fails to point out.Ah... School. Sucks the life out of me. But I can't totally complain. There are so many fun things to do there. This is a very different story for me. It's strange. I hope I can keep it up. It's probably the influence of all those sisters. XcD

**fell4adeadguy:** Actually, I was saying that they aren't really princesses. They're the neices of an Earl. But other than that...

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** I have to tell you this story. Everytime I type your name, I try to remember whether it's 'phee-OH-nix' or 'phoh-EE-nix' (just in relation of spelling). I'm always like, 'well, I think I thought it was 'pho-EE-nix' last time, so it must be 'phe-OH-nix'.' And I'm always wrong. Weird, huh? Jarrod's going to have to learn to let go. He has enough guilt to fill an ocean. I think Fiona might help him with that.

**little miss tiny shoes:** It'll happen. I don't know when, but it will.

Sorry about the half-cliffie, but it seemed the best way to end this chapter. I'll try and get the next one up real-soon like!

Lulai

Chapter Twelve: Found

"Is that everything?" Jarrod asked.

"I think so," Havara said, frowning. The servants placed the last bag of coins in the carriage bound for Castle Fer Drewery.

"Alright then, we're off," Jarrod pulled the hood of his cloak over his face and sat up on top, snapping the reins to get the horses moving.

"Wait!" he heard a voice cry. Jarrod halted the team and waited curiously as Josephine ran up to him.

"Your majesty, _you're_ going?" she asked when she was within normal speaking range.

"Of course," he replied. "Is there a problem with that?"

Josephine nervously chewed her lower lip, but replied, "No, no problem. Just be safe is all." She bowed.

Jarrod thought the exchange strange but shrugged and cracked the reins again, and the horses continued down the road.

The rain had let up, but the sky was still overcast in such a way that it looked as if the sky itself was grey. It was very somber, but it allowed Jarrod to keep his hood up without suspicion from anyone.

As the horses walked along the trail, Jarrod lapsed into a deep thought. He hadn't seen Fiona all morning. Although that wasn't surprising, given her opinions on what he was doing, he did miss her company.

He gave a bit of a frown. He remembered what happened with the last woman he had these kinds of feelings for. Fiona had proven time and time again that she was different from Belinda, but nevertheless, he would be assured of her heart before he gave his away.

A little farther up the trail, three bandits crouched in a thick bush. One of the bandits was running his fingers over the feathers of his arrows in a nervous gesture, a long bow slung over his shoulder.

"I have the feeling that this is a trap," he muttered.

"How can it be a trap if they don't even know we're here?" asked another bandit, this one testing the edge of his dagger with his thumb.

"This is what road Fiona told us they would be taking," the third said, an axe resting on his knees.

"I can still feel that this is a trap," the first said indignantly.

"Whatever you say," the third responded.

Another bandit with a sword strapped to his back came creeping up behind them.

"They're about five minutes down the road," he reported. "Three guards and a driver, nothing we can't handle."

"Right then," the first responded. "Take half the money and meet at the clearing."

"Right," the others said and silently slid into position.

Jarrod shifted in his seat. They had been travelling for almost an hour and nothing had happened. Perhaps he had been wrong, and the bandits weren't going to take the bait.

An arrow shot out of the clearing right in front of one of the horses, cause it to rear.

"Whoa," Jarrod called, pulling back on the reins to prevent the horses from bolting. The bandits rushed out, one of them pinning a guard to the carraige with a dagger.

This was the chance Jarrod was looking for. He grabbed his bow and quiver and knocked on the wall behind him. Linden slid out from under the seat and took Jarrod's position, allowing Jarrod to slip into the trees unseen.

A rain of arrows stopped the horses from moving anywhere. A bandit with a broadsword was battling one two of his guards while a bandit with a rather large axe chopped the two back wheels in half. The carraige fell onto its back axle with a loud crunch of splintering wood. The arrows stopped as the fourth bandit rushed onto the road.

While Axe and Sword (as Jarrod was coming to think of them) kept his guards at bay, Dagger and Bow were cleaning out the carraige. Axe thunked one of the men over the head and he dropped like a stone. Sword knocked another one unconscious. Jarrod was hard pressed not to go out and help his men, but he couldn't give away his position. He gritted his teeth and stayed where he was.

The other two guards were disposed of almost as rapidly, until they all lay on the ground unconscious.

Sword seemed to be counting, but made a satisfied gesture to the others. The bandits disappeared back into the forest, with only the swaying of the bushes showing where they had gone.

Jarrod slipped silently into the forests behind them. Luckily, the rain made the ground soft.

"What a haul!" Axe exclaimed excitedly. "There's enough money here to feed the village for nearly a month."

Bow frowned. "That felt too easy."

Dagger gave Bow a little punch in the arm. "Stop being so paranoid. We are just getting better at this; that's why it felt easy."

Bow frowned again, but said nothing.

They reached the clearing and put down the money.

"That's far enough," said a voice from the shadows. All the bandits instantly drew their weapons and stood in a circle, facing outwards.

"Put your weapons down," the voice commanded. "I have an arrow pointed straight at the heart of the bandit with the big axe there."

Axe faltered slightly, but raised the axe again. "Show yourself," he snarled.

"Not until you lower your weapons," the voice said.

"What do you want?" Bow asked.

"Right now, I want you to lower your weapons," the voice insisted.

Sword grunted and thrust his sword tip first into the ground. "They have the advantage. We might as well do as they say."

Bow lowered his knocked arrow, and set the bow away from him. Dagger threw his blades into the ground and Axe set his great weapon down.

Jarrod stepped into view, his arrow still knocked and pointed at one of the bandits. The bandits backed into a line, facing him.

"We've laid down our weapons," Dagger said menacingly. "Anything else?"

"Actually, I have a few requests," Jarrod said.

Bow moved his hand in a gesture of continuance. "Name them."

"First, you must return this money you stole."

"We did not steal it," Axe argued.

"And I'm a Faerie King," Jarrod replied sarcastically.

"You look good for your age, your majesty," Bow replied with wry humour, "but I assure you, the money will be returned to its rightful owners."

"Meaning you?"

Bow stiffened. "Meaning whoever needs it the most."

Jarrod wasn't about to buy that, but he wasn't going to waste time quibbling. He would get all the information out of these bandits before he had them arrested.

"Fine," he said. "Secondly, I would like to know why you are trying to kill me."

"But we aren't trying to kill you," Dagger replied.

"Who else would it be?" Jarrod asked darkly.

"I assure you, I have no idea, but I can tell you for a fact that it is not us."

"Why should I trust you?"

The bandits paused, looking at each other. Finally, Bow stepped forward. Jarrod's arrow swung to him and he paused, but then continued forward and pulled back his hood.

"Because we are the Havara Bandits," Fiona explained.


	13. Fight

Holy guacamole, Batman! Over _**110**_ reviews! Booyah! Just for you all, **_TWO_** chapters! Yes, count them, one, TWO! Although, the first one's a little short, so, meh. ANYWHO...

**Tiger Lily21:** I love plot twists. Thanks for the well wishes!

**livingdead2010:** K!

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** Thank you! I'm glad my forshadowing worked. I think I've gotten better at it.

**fell4adeadguy:** Aw, lol. Don't you hate that? They almost need a button at the top of the screen too. Hooray for cliffies!

**Princess of Rain:** ((hands you overly large sunglasses)) Don't want you to get too blind.

**panemonium:** My friend went to New York for Spring Break. She had a great time. Anyways, Jarrod is quite shocked, I'm sure. I will totally use this time to type some more chapters out.

**Areida Rivers:** Yup, I'm a senior, and we are extremely busy. But I love writing so much that I make time for it. Thank you very much. It's totally my pleasure to write it. Ah! Don't die! I'll make it better, I promise!

**Dreamer at Heart:** Yay for band trips. Here you go!

**Sirenic Griffin:** (1)Heehee! Yup!The sisters seem to like taking things into their own hands. It'sprobably because there are so many of them. (Siblings) I don't have a little brother, but I have a little cousin who is extremely annoying. My sister often doesn't hold back either, but you can't beat your sister into submission, or else you get the 'You're the biggerperson' type speech. I kid. I love my sister very very much. (School) :c( That's sad. My schoolwork usually sucks the life out of me, (especially calculus) but seeing all my friends make it all better. (2) Aw, but your stories are very good. And to quote Jean de la Buyère 'It is the glory and the merit of some men to write well, and of others, not to write at all.' (3) Okay!

**Kimmy7:** Thanks!

**CharlyB:** I love cliffies. Probably too much Nancy Drew when I was young. Thank you!

**Dragonblade Goddess:** Nope. I had the utmost trust that you wouldn't say what I thought you were going to say. I'm glad I surprised you. :cD

**littlelambug:** Okay! Here you go!

**rainkisser:** It's okay. This is about the time of month where everyone is busy, myself included. That is scary! My choir is preparing for this huge festivalinthebeginning of July, and we haven'teven gotten half of our music yet. It's still in transit. And it's hard stuff too. I'm glad you like this story. It does have a bit of a melancholic element to it, doesn't it? One of the many secrets out in the open.

**naughty little munchkin:** Hey! Long time, no write! I understand totally about the reading and not reviewing. Sometimes, you just don't have the time. I should whip you back to your studying, but I have been guilty of being sucked into Fanfiction when I'm supposed to be doing homework. Oh, the poor (kinda) earl. Yes, all the sisters are involved. I will explain more in detail later in the story, but, as mentioned in the chapter below, it's not just Fiona. That might be fun! Kidnapping Jarrod, I mean. Oh, Jarrod, Jarrod, Jarrod. It's very strange when your stories almost take themselves over. I mean, I was thinking, 'Well, they are both attracted to each other, without the other one knowing it, but they haven't even kissed since Chapter Eight! What up with that?' I fixed that. :cD Thank you very much for the compliments! Honestly, even if I recieved no reviews, I would still update, just because I love writing so much. Reviews are just like icing on a chocolate cake. Anyway, I always love your reviews, and hope you like the next couple of chapters!

**Uruviel Tinuviel:** No problem! I know you're busy. What musical are you guys doing?

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** Oh, I was wondering if anyone was going to say that.They were just teasing Fiona is all. It's hard to write inflection, but basically, she was saying, 'the road _Fiona _told us...' as if Fiona were a title instead of her name, or something. It's really hard to explain, but my sister does it to me all the time.

**little miss tiny shoes:** All the sister have an input in the bandits, yes. It'll be explained a little more fully later. Your wish is my command!

Thank you for all the reviews. You guys make me feel all bubbly inside!

Lulai

ChapterThirteen: Fight

Jarrod lowered his bow in shock as Dagger, Axe, and Sword pulled back their hoods as well to reveal Genevieve, Nia, and Daphne respectively.

"You?" he asked incomprehensibly. "Why?"

Fiona had the stubborn look to her jaw again. "Because we could not just stand by and see our friends starve."

"Are things really that bad?" Jarrod asked, stepping farther into the clearing.

Fiona nodded. "Yes. The worse part of it all is that Uncle Edward isn't even really evil, merely ignorant."

"Ignorant in such a way as to be ignorant to his ignorance," Genevieve interjected dryly.

Fiona nodded again. "So we can't really get rid of him." She turned to Jarrod with a plea of understanding in her eyes. "We aren't really that bad. We only steal half of his money. We never kill anyone."

"So the only way that you would stop would be if the Earl would stop taxing the people?" Jarrod asked. All four women nodded. Jarrod sighed and pressed his finger and thumb into his temples. It would be a hard time convincing the Earl of anything, especially that.

"I imagine it was you two in the Earl's room that night," he commented, looking at Fiona and Genevieve.

"Yes," Genevieve answered.

He turned to Fiona. "This is why you couldn't tell me who the bandits were. How much of what you told me is untrue?" He couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Fiona winced slightly. "I never outright lied to you," she said. "I just sometimes… didn't tell the entire truth."

"The calluses?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fiona gave a small shrug. "I did burn my hands when I was younger. However, that's not what the calluses are from."

"The sheep?"

"I did go out and help save them," she replied. "After stealing the money of course."

"Of course," he said, his voice sharply sarcastic.

She took a step towards him. "I wanted to tell you so many times," she said. "I just wanted to shout it to you, to try and make you understand, especially after our, er, discussion in the garden, but I didn't know how to. I hoped that you would see that Uncle Edward's taxes were unfair and stop them. Then the bandits would fade into obscurity."

Jarrod opened his mouth to reply when the snap of an arrow being released interrupted him.

"Jarrod, watch out!" Fiona shouted, jumping at him. A sharp burning shot up his arm and an arrow lodged in the tree behind them. He landed on his side, Fiona hugged around his middle. The sound of yelling men filled the clearing.

All the women snapped into action. Fiona picked up his bow and stood in front of him, an arrow knocked and searching. She obviously found who she was looking for and let the arrow go. A man hidden up in a tree toppled to the ground.

Genevieve scooped up her daggers with a roll. The sword and axe seemed to leap into Daphne and Nia's hands as they engaged the rough looking men.

Jarrod shifted and hissed in pain. He noticed the pin on one of the men's cloaks. It was a snake swallowing a tree from the top down. "These are the wild men of Drewery Forest," he said to Fiona. "What are they doing here?"

"Perhaps they're here to exchange recipes," she replied sarcastically, letting another arrow fly. He stood behind her, holding the long gash in his arm tightly so he wouldn't bleed to death.

He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. It was a man with a long dagger coming up behind them. As soon as the man realised that his sneak attack had been discovered, he let out a fierce cry and leapt forward towards them. Jarrod managed to pull out his own dagger fast enough to block the attack.

Jarrod clenched his teeth against the jarring in his arm. Kicking the man away, he switched his dagger to his left hand. The man sneered, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth, and charged again.

"Those pieces is mine," the man snarled before taking a large swipe at Jarrod. Jarrod skilfully blocked the man's blade, and stabbed him in the arm. The man cried out and dropped his weapon. Jarrod punched the man in the face, and he fell back, unconscious, or worse.

"Fiona, look out!" Genevieve's voice rang through the clearing.

Fiona whirled to her left. A man baring two small hand axes was running towards her. Before she even had time to draw her bow, the man fell down, a dagger in his throat.

She looked behind her. Jarrod stood there, clutching his arm, panting slightly. She knocked an arrow and fired it, hitting the man coming up behind Jarrod in the shoulder. Jarrod didn't flinch, even as the arrow whistled past his ear.

He looked at her quiver. There were very arrows few left, so he added the ones from his quiver to hers. "We have to get out of here," he said, noticing the tiring of the sisters. The wild men were not necessarily skilled, but strong and numerous.

"You're right," Fiona agreed before firing off another arrow.

"But the castle is at least an hour's ride from here. And we can't exactly take the carriage." He was wracking his brain for an escape plan. "We'll have to take the horses."

He saw Fiona's face blanch, although she didn't say a word and still wasn't looking at him. She was down to five arrows. Already he could hear the reinforcements crashing through the brush.

"We'll have to make a break for it," she yelled to her sisters, quickly firing off her least three arrows and taking down the men that surrounded her sisters. Jarrod noticed that none of her shots were lethal; instead she took out the men's legs and arms.

As Jarrod watched, Genevieve picked up the bags of money and ran over to a large oak tree. She pressed one of the knots and the entire trunk of the tree swung open. She stuffed the coins inside and shut it.

"Okay, let's go," she said.

"This is wrong," Jarrod said, as they crashed through the brush towards the horses. "Why are they even here? Drewery is a full day's ride from Havara. It doesn't make sense."

"Can we discuss this later?" Fiona asked, pushing a branch out of her way. "Possibly when we aren't running for our lives?"

The sisters and Jarrod ran to where the carriage was still broken down in the road. The unconscious guards, the horses, and the money were gone.

Jarrod swore. He forgot that he had told Linden to take all the extra money back to the castle.

"What now?" Daphne asked, panting, her dripping sword still clenched in her right hand.

Fiona sighed, hearing the crashing that signalled the men were coming. "We'll have to take him into the tunnels," she said.

"Can we trust him with that?" Nia asked.

"What choice have we?" Fiona replied angrily. "I'm out of arrows. You're all tired. They're not going to stop until they kill him."

Genevieve sheathed her daggers. "Let's go then."

Jarrod ran behind the sisters, his arm throbbing in pain. He gritted his teeth against it and continued on in silence.

"In here," Fiona said, pulling back a bush to reveal a small trap door hidden by a patch of grass. Genevieve pulled the rung and Daphne dropped in. Jarrod climbed in next, followed by Fiona and Genevieve.

They waited, crouched in the darkness, until the thunder of the men's feet were far off in the distance. Daphne signalled for them to continue on.


	14. Healing

Chapter Fourteen: Healing

The tunnels were dark and damp, lit every now and then with small torches. The five warriors walked silently, the only sound the dripping of water from a roof into a pool somewhere and their leather boots on the floor. There were several different branches of tunnels, but Daphne never hesitated in which one to take. Whether the tunnels were marked or Daphne just knew where to go, Jarrod didn't bother to ask.

It seemed as though they had been walking in the tunnels for forever when they approached a set of stairs.

Jarrod began to climb, his head feeling light from loss of blood. His hand was cold with blood and starting to cramp from holding his arm so long.

He stumbled on one of the stairs, but caught his balance before he fell down.

"Are you alright?" Fiona asked him, laying a hand on his arm. Jarrod involuntarily sucked in a breath through his teeth when she accidentally touched his wound.

"My god," Fiona said, holding her fingers to the light. They shone with what could only be blood. "You're hurt! Why didn't you say anything?"

"What could you have done?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"We're here," Genevieve said, pushing open a door at the end of the stairs. It opened up into Annabelle's room.

Fiona sat Jarrod down in a chair and peeled his hand away from his forearm. A long gash ran from just above his wrist to his elbow. It was clean in the centre, but quite ragged on the ends. She figured the arrow had nicked him and the fall to the ground had pulled it open.

"Get the physician," she said to Nia. "He needs stitches."

Nia shook her head. "Today's the day he goes out to visit the farms," she replied. "He won't be back until tomorrow."

"Damn!" Fiona swore. Jarrod was looking quite pale. "I'll have to do it myself."

If anything, Jarrod's face became paler at this announcement.

"Get me some cloths, my sewing kit, boiling water, and a container of brandy," she snapped at no one in particular. The sisters ran out to get the items she listed. Fiona stripped off her cloak.

Jarrod was feeling so tired. It would be so easy to just lay his head on his chest and sleep.

"Jarrod," Fiona said sharply. "Don't you fall asleep on me."

He managed a faint grin. "Never that, my lady."

Nia entered baring a pot of boiling water and a crystal decanter of brandy. Genevieve was carrying her sewing and Daphne, cloths.

"Here," Fiona said shortly, thrusting the brandy at Jarrod. "Drink this."

Jarrod lifted the drink to his lips with his good arm, feeling the burn all the way down to his stomach. A little bit of his strength returned.

"What are you planning on doing?" he asked her.

"I have to sew this gash together," Fiona said, "or it will just keep on bleeding, and probably heal wrong."

"Have you ever done this before?" he asked.

"Well," Fiona admitted, "not on a person. But I've mended my fair share of clothes."

Jarrod looked at her seriously and she didn't waver from his steady brown gaze. Something seemed to pass between them and he gave a slight nod before lifting the brandy to his lips again.

She soaked a cloth in the water and carefully wiped all the blood and dirt from his arm. Jarrod flinched once or twice, causing Fiona to wince herself, as if she were the one feeling the pain instead of him.

When his arm was as clean as she could get it, as it was still bleeding slightly, Fiona selected a needle and some thread, pulling them through the hot water, careful not to burn her fingers.

"What are you doing that for?" Nia asked.

"I always feel better after washing in hot water," Fiona said. "I figure that it makes the needle and thread cleaner."

"Ah," she said, her face blanching until she was almost as pale as Jarrod.

"Nia, let's go, er, somewhere else," Daphne said, also looking a little green. Nia nodded and the two of them left.

Fiona was slightly relieved to see them go. She was feeling slightly queasy about the whole mess herself and didn't have the energy to keep her sisters and Jarrod calm.

She figured she better get started. "Here we go," Fiona muttered to herself under her breath. "Just like sewing a dress." Unfortunately, none of the dresses she had sewn had ever looked so pink and so _alive_. She took a deep breath and stuck the needle into his skin.

After a few stitches, Fiona guiltily admitted to herself that it _was_ rather like hemming a dress. Jarrod never made a sound, but she didn't dare look at his face, as she was afraid of loosing her nerve. She could feel Genevieve's calming presence at her side and was grateful for it. She kept her head bent over his wound and soon Jarrod had a row of neat stitches up his arm.

She tied off the final stitch and bit off the last little bit of thread. She finally looked up at Jarrod. He was staring a point above her head, but his complexion didn't look nearly as pale. In fact, it looked almost rosy.

A thought struck her and she looked at the brandy decanter in his hand. It was full when she gave it to him, now only about a quarter of it was left.

"This is some nice work," he said, his words slightly slurred as he examined his arm.

"Thank you," she replied. "Can you stand?"

"Of course," he snorted. He managed to make it to his feet with only a little bit of a wobble. Fiona put her arm around his waist to steady him.

"If you rip out those stitches, I'll kill you myself," she muttered under her breath.

"That would kinda be a step backwards, wouldn't it?" Jarrod asked, his hearing still sharp even though he was obviously drunk. "I mean, after you went t' all that work…"

Fiona thought the best thing to do would be to get him to lie down. He was leaning on her quite heavily.

"Are you okay with him?" Genevieve asked.

"I think I'll just take him back to his room," Fiona answered. "Before he hurts himself."

"I won't hurt myself," Jarrod snorted indignantly. "I'm quite capable of makin' it t' my room." He started to take another swig of alcohol, but Fiona took the bottle away from him.

"I think you've had enough of that," she said sternly.

Jarrod glared at her, but Fiona managed to stare him down. He said nothing.

"Then I will go do some damage control," Genevieve said, taking the brandy from Fiona, "and maybe try and find something to eat."

"Find something for me too," Fiona said.

"How did I know you were going to say that?" Genevieve teased as she walked out the door.

Fiona rolled her eyes. "Alright, my lord," she said, shifting his weight, trying to get comfortable, "let's go to your rooms."

"Yes, let's," Jarrod said, leaning on her as they walked through the door into the hallway. "I'm eager t' continue that 'discussion' we started in the garden." He gave her a drunken grin. Fiona turned beet red.

His face appeared inches in front of hers. She gave a little shriek of surprise and backed away, causing Jarrod to stumble and fall on his rear.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.

Jarrod would have looked very superior except for the fact he was still sitting on the floor. "I'm _trying_ t' kish, er, kiss you."

"This is neither the time nor the place, your majesty," Fiona hissed at him, pulling him up again before he embarrassed either of them.

"Nonsense," Jarrod said, throwing out his arm, nearly causing both of them to fall over. "There's no one here, an' you saved my life. That's two good reasons t' kiss you."

"You saved my life too," Fiona said.

"Another good reason," Jarrod smiled.

"No, my lord," Fiona said. "I don't want you hurting yourself after I just finished stitching you up."

"An' a marvellous job, I might add. You deserve a thank you kiss."

Fiona would have laughed if she weren't so irritated. "No, my lord. You're going to lie down and not pull open your arm again."

Jarrod looked mighty disappointed. Fiona had to laugh. Jarrod frowned at her, and she laughed harder. She laughed so hard, her sides started to hurt and tears started in her eyes.

She couldn't stop, and after a few minutes she realised she wasn't laughing anymore, she was crying.

"Fiona, what's wrong?" Jarrod asked, instantly sobering, concern written on his face.

She pressed her hands to her mouth in an effort to keep in the sobs, but to no avail. "I don't know," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hands were shaking terribly.

"It's just shock," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. He drew her close into his chest. He had a feeling that Fiona did not cry very often, and she must be extremely rattled to have let her guard down in front of him.

Fiona resisted for a second, then allowed herself to be comforted, burying her face in his chest. She could feel Jarrod stroking her hair, not saying anything, just being there with his strength. After she felt a vestige of control return, she looked up at him.

"Some healer I turned out to be," she said with a little laugh. "I can't even see blood without crying." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed.

"You're just a little overwrought," he soothed.

"Yes, a little," she said. She wrinkled her nose and smiled faintly. "I must look a fright."

"A bit messy, perhaps," Jarrod said, wiping some dirt off her forehead, "but not a fright."

She looked up at him with those huge blue-green eyes, her lashes still damp from her tears, and Jarrod was hard pressed not to take her back to Castle Fer Drewery and lock her up so no one could ever harm her. He pulled her closer to him, cupping her chin lightly in his fingers.

"May I kiss you?" he asked softly. Fiona's eyes widened as she regarded him seriously. She realised that this request was different from the ones earlier.

"Please?" he whispered, his lips scant inches from hers. He felt her nod once; then he captured her mouth with a ferocity that surprised them both.

Fiona discovered that brandy tasted better than it smelled. A _lot_ better. So she had no objections when he pressed on her mouth, demanding entrance. She gave a little moan and reached her hands up to his shoulders to anchor herself when his tongue ran over the softness of her lower lip.

He was lost in the taste of her, the smell of her. He was lost in _her_. He tugged at her tightly bound hair until a tendril of the russet locks came free and lay in a seductive curlicue on her collarbone. He followed the line of hair down her neck with his lips, admiring the silky feel of it. He started to bend his knees, when she wrenched herself away.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, tugging at her neckline, although it wasn't the slightest bit out of place.

"_You're_ sorry?" Jarrod asked with a raised eyebrow. His mind was already progressing forward, playing what would have happened if she hadn't have stopped.

"Mine was a figure of speech," she said, snapping him back to the present.

"What?"

"Your 'I'm sorry' was an apology," she clarified with a firm nod. "Mine was merely a figure of speech, something used to fill the silence." She sounded remarkably governess-esque for someone who had just been so thoroughly kissed.

"And you felt there was a silence that needed filling?"

"Yes," Fiona said, "there was."

"I felt we were filling it quite nicely," Jarrod replied with a half-grin. Fiona's face flamed.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Now, stop trying to embarrass me."

"Tell me, Fiona," Jarrod said, pulling her towards him again. "Are you going to lecture me after every kiss?"

"If the need arises," Fiona responded, frowning. "One must always look for improvement."

"And if one is already perfect?" Jarrod teased. He didn't know what had come over him. His heart had not felt so light in years.

"You, my lord, are far too arrogant for your own good," Fiona stated, poking him in the chest when he didn't let her out of his arms. "I think I liked you better when you were drunk."

"A gentleman never gets drunk," Jarrod corrected her. "He merely over imbibes."

Fiona rolled her eyes. "So you admit to 'over imbibing' then?"

"A gentleman also never admits to anything."

A frown drew a line between Fiona's eyebrows. "So what does a gentleman do?"

"Rescue pretty ladies?"

Fiona snorted. "I should think that-"

Jarrod kissed her again, making her insides melt like butter in a skillet. All her irritation flowed out of her, and the line between her eyebrows smoothed.

He ended the kiss, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. "You're so light," he murmured. "You illuminate my soul."

Fiona shivered at his words. She almost moaned at the separation of his body from hers.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said, with a final brush at her bangs.


	15. Problems

Bet you thought I had fallen off the face of the planet, huh? I hurt two of my fingers in a rousing rugby practise, and although nothing was broken, I did have to have them wrapped for a while. And it is really tough to type with only three fingers on one hand. _Sloooow_ goin'.

**Tiger Lily21:** Wee for kissing! It always puts me into a bubbly mood when I read a really good kissing scene. I actually haven't had to dissect anything yet in Bio (this year), but I know we have to do a fetal pig sometime this year.

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** Yeah. I kind of think that Fiona and Jarrod are going to be more of a quieter couple than Danni and Aiden (assuming they make it, of course) You'd like to think this is the end, wouldn't you? Unfortunately, no. ((cheeky grin))

**Areida Rivers:** Jarrod pushes so much stuff down, that when some of it actually comes out, it's a bit... extreme. I love him anyway! I'm glad you like my writing! I have so many influences that I'm afraid that sometimes they don't quite mesh together as nicely, but I seem to have found a happy medium, for me anyway.

**rainkisser:** YAYAYAY! LURVE is so WONDERFUL! Get untangled and update soon! ((coughsorryaboutthehypocrisycough))

**Princess of Rain:** :cD

**fell4adeadguy:** The temptation is just too much! Ah!

**panemonium: **Thank you so much! There isn't really much Jarrod could do anyway, is there? He's probably not about to arrest Fiona. She did just get shot at and had to stitch up Jarrod's arm. I'd be a little shaky, wouldn't you?

**naughty little munchkin:** I'm very proud:cD I just wish I could be as good and update as fast. I'm glad I added some depth to Fiona. Sometimes I think of a character really in depth in my head, but it doesn't translate into (paper?) as well as I would like. Can I tell you a secret, if you promise not to tell anyone? Jarrod wasn't actually drunk. I know it's not obvious in the story, but for 'to-be-disclosed-in-the-future' reasons, he doesn't get drunk easily. He was pretending, to get close to Fiona. The faker. I think there are going to be more bonding chapters in this story than any other I've written. They're just bonding sort of characters, I guess. I hope you find them all as well written. Heehee, thanks.

**Dragonblade Goddess:** Hah! I just imagined a whole bunch of cliffs (like off a mountain)all instantaniously bursting into flame. Thanks for the compliment.

**Quarter to Eleven:** Sweet! Thanks. I love strong female characters too. I guess because I'm a really strong personality myself, so I can see a little bit of myself in those characters.

**Dreamer at Heart:** I love/hate that crazy laughing feeling! Especially when absolutely nothing is funny! My friend and I had a moment like that in band class for whatever reason, and everytime we looked at each other we started to laugh. It was really hard to play our instruments.

**little miss tiny shoes:** Yay! Fiona has three main talents: stitching, shooting, and eating. I love her so much. Hooray for kissage!

**Linnath: **Yeah, a lot of people hinted at it, but I couldn't just come out and say, 'Hey, you're right! They're bandits!' Although I really wanted to. You'll have to find out. But Jarrod's wondering that as well.

Ah! I feel better. I've got another chapter up. w00t!

Lulai

Chapter Fifteen: Problems

Jarrod took a deep breath.

He had gone to bed feeling better than he ever remembered, but that feeling only lasted until he had climbed under the covers. He lay there, his one hand behind his head, his injured arm on his chest, thinking.

If Fiona and her sisters were the bandits, then that means there was someone else out there who wanted him dead. And while the thought in itself was frightening, it was the image of Fiona lying on the floor, shaking with poison that clenched at his heart.

The arrow today could have just as easily pierced her breast as his. The closer to him she was, the more danger she was in. He wouldn't even imagine what would happen to him if she died. He had enough deaths on his conscious already.

This was it, then. He would solve their problem, and then he would be out of her life, probably forever.

Jarrod raised his fist to knock on the door and walked in.

"I'm glad you both agreed to meet me," he said, motioning for Havara and Annabelle to sit. "I think I might have a solution to our problem."

He stood in his soldier stance, his feet shoulder width apart, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I have corresponded with the bandits," he said, his eyes catching Annabelle's. She looked at him, her chin raised proudly, as if to dare him to tell Havara. "They said that they will stop robbing the castle if you turn the title over to Annabelle."

"Absolutely not!" Havara exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table.

"Not even if I make your retirement worth your while?"

Havara settled back down, a calculating look in his eye. "Perhaps we might come to some agreement. To stop the bandits, of course."

"Of course," Jarrod replied with a straight face. He turned to Annabelle. "Are willing to take control of Castle Fer Havara?"

"I am," Annabelle said, only her eyes belying her hope.

"Very well. How much would it convince you to pass on the title, Havara?"

The Earl thought for several minutes, then named a number that caused Annabelle to blanche. Jarrod gave no sign of what he thought.

"Very well," Jarrod said. "I will write up a letter to my steward and you can pick your money up at Castle Fer Drewery when we return tomorrow. You, however, will sign over the title to Annabelle today."

"Deal." The Earl went to the trunk beside the table. He unlocked it with a key from a ring around his waist. From the trunk, he pulled out a smaller box, also locked. He unlocked that box and pulled out a long sheet of parchment. There were three sets of lines to it.

A servant brought a quill and an inkpot. The Earl signed his name in the first column. Annabelle signed hers in the second. Jarrod signed his full name and title in the third. Havara handed Annabelle the keys.

"I wish you luck, Countess," Jarrod said to Annabelle as they straightened.

"Thank you, Majesty, for everything," she said, grasping his hand.

Fiona nearly bowled down three servants in her haste to get to Jarrod's room. Annabelle had told her what Jarrod had convinced the Earl to do, and she wanted to thank him… personally. She was nearly exploding with joy.

She burst into his room without knocking and flung her arms around a surprised Jarrod. She smothered his face with kisses, but paused when he didn't return her affections. It was then that she noticed his valet putting his shirts in an open trunk.

"You're leaving?" she said, falling back from her tiptoed stance.

"Yes, tomorrow morning," he replied. Fiona's arms dropped to her sides. He shrugged. "I have convinced the Earl to pass on the title. That should be enough to convince the bandits that they no are no longer needed, and hence, I am no longer needed."

"Oh," Fiona said, ignoring the catch in her throat.

"I would like us to part as friends, though," Jarrod said, his face filled with friendly concern.

"As would I, my lord," Fiona said, forcing her lips into a smile. Inside, her thoughts were tumbling about. This was even worse than when he had apologised for kissing her. She didn't know whether to cry, or punch him, or drag him off and lock him in her bedroom.

Instead, she curtsied politely, and said, "I hope you have a pleasant journey home."

"Thank you. I am deeply indebted to your hospitality," he responded, equally politely.

"It is of no concern," she said nonchalantly. "It was our pleasure to have you."

"I will hope to see you again soon, Lady Fiona."

"As would I, my lord."

Fiona left his room and walked numbly to her own. And to think that she had been so happy when she had woken up. Why, she was very nearly dancing at breakfast. Now it felt as if she would never again smile.

She sighed and picked up her cat. She was being quite over-dramatic. She would smile again. Annabelle will need help, and she'll be surrounded by her friends and her sisters, and she'll slowly forget about the man who made her heart sing.

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself at all," Fiona told Mittens irritably. "On the contrary, I'm trying to make myself feel better."

Mittens purred and pushed her head into Fiona's chest.

"Fiona?" Genevieve and Nia poked their heads through the door. "Can we come in?"

"Of course," she said with a false cheeriness. No one was going to know the blackness she felt inside.

…

Fiona sat quietly in the solarium, sewing the neckline on Harmony's dress. It had been nearly a week since the Earl and the King had left for Castle Fer Drewery. Things had settled down again into a semi-smooth routine, until today. Annabelle, now the Countess of Havara, had called a meeting. The sisters entered in small groups, Annabelle being the last to arrive.

"Is everyone here?" she asked.

"Everyone except Bernadette and Cassie," Nia responded, after looking around quickly. Cassandra had married Geoffrey and had headed for the coast for their honeymoon. And after attending her sister's wedding (and being very put out about no one mentioning to her that the King was in town), a very pregnant Bernadette went home to her husband and children.

"Good. I'm afraid we have a problem," Annabelle announced as she sat down in a wooden chair. "Our dearly departed Uncle Edward's greed apparently had no limits. Not only was he content with taxing the population to the edge of bankruptcy, he had also taken out several loans."

"Loans?" Daphne asked. "For what?"

"I have no idea," Annabelle said, shaking her head. "All I know is that I cannot find him, or the money, anywhere."

"He took the money?" Nia demanded angrily.

Annabelle nodded. "Now the people that he has taken these loans from are banging on my door day and night, wanting to be repaid. They have threatened to go to the higher authorities if we do not have the money within a fortnight."

"A fortnight?" the sisters cried.

"Do we have that kind of money?" Elizabeth demanded.

Annabelle sighed and seemed to collapse in on herself. "No. Not even if we sell all the villagers' crops at the highest price will we have that type of money."

"What are we going to do then?" Josephine asked, kneeling to put her arms around her sister's waist to comfort her.

Genevieve stood up. "I say we go to Castle Fer Drewery and talk to the king. Perhaps we can get a loan from him to pay back these other ones, and then pay him back slowly."

Annabelle straightened. "That might actually work."

Genevieve shrugged. "It couldn't hurt to try. I will write Thomas immediately. We can stay with him."

"I think Fiona should go as well," Nia stated.

Fiona started at the mention of her name and managed to prick her finger. She put the injured tip in her mouth.

"Me?" she asked.

Nia nodded. "You were the closest to the king. He might listen more to you than to anyone."

_Closer than you think_, Fiona thought wryly, but nodded anyway. She really didn't wish to be reminded of her heartache, but this wasn't about her. It was about her family and friends. She could handle it. For a few days, at least.

"Can I go?" Josephine asked, her eyes wide. "I have never seen the big city before. Please?"

"Of course," Annabelle said with a soft smile. "Anyone else?"

Daphne and Elizabeth shared a look.

"We will stay and help you," Daphne said. Elizabeth nodded.

"I will stay too," Harmony said softly.

"Are you sure?" Genevieve asked, a small worried frown crossing her brow.

Harmony smiled at her twin. "Yes, quite sure. You are the more adventurous of us. Go have fun for me."

Genevieve returned Harmony's smile.

"I'll go," Nia piped up. "It should be fun."

"Fiona, Genevieve, Nia, and Josephine?" Annabelle listed. The girls nodded. "Alright then. Genevieve, write that letter. The rest of you can go pack, and I will see you all at dinner."


	16. The Market

Wee! Chapter's up! I just came back from a great regionalchampionship, and we won two of our three games, meaning we are going to Provincials! Yay! What does this mean for you? Why, nothing of course, because I have some overflow chapters already written! HOORAY!

**livingdead2010:** Yay!

**panemonium:** I couldn't just leave them apart, now could I? And I'm a huge fan of fantastic coincidences, so, viola. We will definately meet up with Tyrell and Warren, I haven't forgotten about them! Woot!

**Entertainedbygrass:** Thank you very much! I'm glad you love my story.

**Tiger Lily21: **Of course he's going to be suprised. It'll be fun, though.

**fell4adeadguy:** Definatelynot cool, which is why I'm working to rectify that situation.

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** I'm sure that would solve a few problems to say the least. Just use the ol' cavegal technique. Yay for Annabelle! She can run that castle in her sleep.

**Quarter to Eleven:** Hee hee, thank you! But I assure you, I've been staying away from large bottomless chasms of late. :cD

**Dragonblade Goddess:** Pfft. As if. I'm going to stretch this out for a few chapters yet.

**PrincessofRain:** :'c(

**little miss tiny shoes:** Of course not! The Fates (ie: me) wouldn't stand for it! They're going to be seeing a lot of each other until they finally come to their senses and admit they love each other.

**cinnamon:** no problemmo!

Whoo! Now it's off to dinner, cause I'm so hungee.

Lulai

Chapter Sixteen: The Market

Fiona sat squished up next to Josephine, her knitting on her lap. Thomas had written back to Genevieve, saying that he would be delighted to have them. They had packed some of their best clothes and were travelling down a bumpy road, packed into a carriage, at the insistence of Fiona.

"What are you making now?" Josephine asked, putting her book down.

"Socks," Fiona replied, her needles clicking softly. "For Smithing's sons."

"I think we're there!" Nia said, pressing her hands against the window to cut the glare as she looked out.

Fiona put her needles down and looked out the window. They paused for a moment at the huge doors of the wall, presumably to explain their business in the city, and then the carriage started forward again with a lurch, almost throwing Josephine and Fiona into Nia and Genevieve's laps.

The setting sun bathed the entire city in a golden hue. Most of the shops had closed up for the night, leaving just colourful awnings and wooden counters in front of large wooden houses. And there, up on a large grassy hill in all its glory, was Castle Fer Drewery… and Jarrod.

Fiona tore her eyes away from the castle and concentrated on the houses they were passing. The closer they got to the castle, the grander the houses became. The carriage halted in front of the doors of a very large estate and their driver came around to open the doors for them.

The four women practically stumbled out of the carriage, working out kinks in their backs and legs. They walked up through the large wooden doors into an entrance that contained the grandest wooden staircase Fiona had ever seen. This mere house made Castle Fer Havara look like a shack.

"Announcing Lord Thomas Fer Turnbull," a man boomed, making Fiona jump.

"You really don't have to do that, Harding," a young man said to the butler standing by the archway.

"Thomas?" Genevieve asked.

"Genny!" Thomas replied, rushing forward to take her hand. "I've waited so long to meet you."

Genevieve turned to her sisters and indicated, "This is the man I've been telling you about, Lord Thomas Fer Turnbull. Thomas, these are my sisters, Fiona, Iphigenia, and Josephine."

Nia stepped forward. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lord."

Thomas waved his hand dismissively. "I'm a distant Lord on my mother's side. Please, call me Thomas."

"Then you must call me Nia," Nia said with a smile.

"I'd be delighted.

Josephine stepped forward with a curtsy. "We are very glad you could accommodate us on such short notice."

"It was no problem," Thomas assured them with shrug. "But where are my manners? You must all be starving," Thomas declared. "I'll have Cook whip something up."

"Thomas, we need to change first," Genevieve laughed. "This dress is wrinkled beyond repair."

"Very well," Thomas acquiesced. "I'll have dinner ready in half an hour. That should give you sufficient time for your toilette."

He bowed and left them with a maid to show them to their rooms.

"I didn't think that Thomas would be so young," Nia commented as she sat in front of a mirror and pulled the pins out of her hair.

"Neither did I," Genevieve admitted, pursing her lips as she considered which dress she was going to wear.

"Don't be coy," Josephine said, bouncing on the bed. "I saw your face when you first saw Thomas. You think he's handsome."

To Fiona's amazement, Genevieve blushed. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen Genevieve blush. "Perhaps," she said, and tried to look absorbed in her clothes.

Josephine and Nia shared giggles, but Fiona did not join in. She sat in a large green chair beside the window and continued her knitting.

"Fiona, you'd better start getting ready for dinner," Josephine said, twirling around to make her skirt flare out.

"It's okay. I don't think I'll be going for dinner. I'm not really hungry."

All three sisters stopped what they were doing and looked at her as if she grew a second head.

"You're not hungry?" Genevieve asked.

"No," Fiona replied.

Nia placed the back of her hand against Fiona's head. Fiona brushed it away irritably.

"What?" she asked, glaring at her sisters.

"You just said that you weren't hungry," Josephine said. "That's not like you, Fiona."

"What am I?" Fiona asked, suddenly angry. "Just a bottomless pit of eating? Entertainment?" She stood up and began to pace. "I'm just not hungry, okay?"

The sisters looked at each other.

"Of course," Nia said finally. "It's just that we're worried about you. You haven't been the same since…"

"Since the King left," Genevieve finished.

Fiona collapsed back into the chair in a dejected looking position. "You're right," she said weakly. She put a hand across her smarting eyes. She didn't want to cry, not for him, not anymore.

"What happened?" Josephine asked softly.

"I really have no clue," Fiona said. She looked out the window. "One minute I was happy, then, he was… gone. And not just physically."

She shook her head. "It makes no sense, I know. I just want to know if it was something I said, or did, and let him know that I'm sorry if it is."

When lost in her own thoughts, she sometimes began to wonder if he thought that she was too… wanton. She hadn't really turned him away at any chance, and maybe he thought that she just kissed anyone who managed to catch her in the garden at night.

"Well," Genevieve said, clasping her hands around her knees, "you can ask him tomorrow, when we're going to have dinner with him."

That got Fiona's attention. "What?" She sat up straight.

Nia gave her a look. "You don't think we came here merely to see the sights, did you?"

"Oh, right," Fiona said.

"Come eat tonight," Josephine said, standing to give a kiss on Fiona's forehead. "We'll figure it all out tomorrow."

Fiona smiled. "Okay."

…

The four sisters stood on the edge of the market place, huddled together, in awe of the sights. They felt rather like simple country bumpkins when faced with the hustle and bustle of the buyers and sellers.

"Well," Genevieve said finally, "we aren't going to find anything standing around here all day. Let's go."

So the sisters linked arms (so they would not become separated) and forged their way into the crowd.

"Oh, look!" exclaimed Josephine, pointing. "There's a dress shop. Can we nip inside and see what's there?"

The sisters entered the shop, filled with fabrics of all different varieties and colours neatly arranged. Several dresses hung on the back wall behind a large oak table. Also seated behind the table was a heavyset woman.

"Aye?" she asked, looking up from a pink dress she was sewing.

"My sister here needs a new dress," Genevieve said, pushing Fiona forward. "One that will attract a young man that she has her eye on."

"Genevieve!" Fiona hissed furiously.

"Nothin' too scandalous, I gather?" the woman remarked, looking Fiona up and down.

"No, but nothing overly modest either," Genevieve said.

The woman thought for a moment. "I think I've just tha dress," she said, and disappeared into a back room.

"What do you think you're doing?" Fiona whirled on Genevieve.

"Getting you suited for man catching," Genevieve replied calmly. "You need something other than those frumpy gowns you have now."

Fiona was going to respond when the woman sailed back into the room, moving gracefully for one so large.

"Here," she said, holding out a flowing blue gown. "This is tha gown ye need if ye be wantin' somethin' eyecatchin' without appearin' vulgar. Tha lady who was goin' to buy this dress originally, lost her, ahem, source o' funds."

Although Fiona was rather country bumpkinish compared to these city folk, she wasn't overly naïve and could rather imagine what sort of profession the woman had.

"It should fit ye fairly well, perhaps a wee bit too long, an' I donna think yer bosom's as big. When do ye need it?"

"Tonight?" Genevieve asked.

The woman nodded. "Alright. Let me take yer measurements. This'll be twenty silvers."

"Twenty-" Fiona began to protest, but Genevieve pulled out her purse and paid the woman.

"Thanks fer yer buisness," the woman said, collecting her coins and putting them in a purse under her counter. She came back up with a quill, a piece of paper, and a rope with knots tied in regular intervals. She pulled up Fiona's arms and wrapped the rope around her bust. She marked something down and repeated the action around her waist, hips, then measured how tall she was from her underarm down. The entire process took about thirty seconds.

"It'll be ready by noon." The woman took the rope, the sheet of paper with the numbers, the dress, and the bag with money into the back room.

"What do you think you're doing?" Fiona whispered to Genevieve as they went to collect Nia and Josephine who were busy examining fabrics in the far corner.

"I'm buying you a new dress," Genevieve said, motioning to her sisters to follow. "One that's sure to knock Jarrod off his feet."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then you can at least take solace in the fact that you have a new dress," Genevieve replied with a grin.

"But where did you get the money?" Fiona persisted as they pushed the door and walked back into the crowded street.

"I had a little bit of savings stashed away," Genevieve shrugged. She stopped Fiona and turned her so that she was looking her straight in the face.

"You do so much for this family," she said firmly. "It's time you start thinking about your own happiness. If he's going to make you happy, then I will do everything in my power to help you."

Tears sprang up in Fiona's eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, and hugged her sister close.

"Aw," Nia said as she and Josephine walked up behind them. "Group hug."

Fiona laughed as all four sisters squeezed together right in the middle of the busy square.

"What are we waiting for?" Josephine cried, throwing an arm into the air. "Let's see the city!"

The sisters started off eagerly. The examined the tables and shops with great interest, from fish to jewellery. Josephine ended up buying a pair of ear bobbles, and Nia bought a small intricate hand axe from a very confused looking seller.

"What did you buy that for?" Fiona asked her.

Nia shrugged. "I know I won't have to use it, but isn't it pretty? And it actually has some good weight." She spun the axe in her hand.

Genevieve rolled her eyes. "I'm just hoping that trees will be your only target with that."

"Of course," Nia said. "Unless I meet up with our dearest Uncle." She gave a slightly malicious grin and spun the axe again.

Fiona opened her mouth to say something when it was covered with a disgusting hand and she was dragged into a back alley. She struggled wildly, and managed to pull the hand away from her mouth. Then she did what any well-bred lady in that particular situation would do. She let out a bloodcurdling scream. It frightened the man enough to drop her, and she scrambled to her feet, but not before he grabbed her arm and began pulling her along behind him.

"Fiona!" Josephine called, seeing her sister being dragged out of sight. "Excuse me," she said, grabbing a tall round pole from holding up an awning.

The sisters ran in the direction they saw Fiona disappear to.

"Let go of me, you filthy scumbag!" Fiona cried to the man pulling her arm out of its socket in an effort to make her walk faster.

"Are ye sure this is tha gel he wanted?" the man asked his accomplice.

"Aye, but she'd better be worth it," the other man answered.

"Let go of our sister!" Nia cried brandishing her axe. The men began to run. Josephine ran after them and managed to corner the one without Fiona. She hit him over the head with her staff and he dropped like a stone.

The other man began to run back into the crowd, but Fiona managed to get her foot under his and he tripped and fell. The sisters were on him in a second.

"Why did you try to abduct our sister?" Genevieve asked him as Josephine held him pinned with her staff.

The man glared at her, his lips tightly shut.

Genevieve pulled a very long, very sharp dagger out of her boot. "If you don't tell us what we want to know, I'll make sure you sing soprano for the rest of your life," she threatened. By now, a small crowd had gathered around them.

Apparently, the man didn't think his silence was worth that. He told them everything. He and his buddy were hired to snatch a highborn lady. No, not just any lady; Fiona had been described to them perfectly. He didn't know who his employer was; they were contacted through an intermediate.

By that time the guards had shown up. Genevieve sheathed her weapon and explained the situation. Some of the townspeople spoke up in support of seeing her being snatched from behind. The guard nodded and lead the conscious man away while sending some of his men into the alley to carry out the other man.

"So," Nia said, turning to her sisters, "do you think it's noon yet?"


	17. Denied

Update, update, up-DATE! Update, update, up-DATE! ((dances))

ZOMG, you guys. I'm so excited as to where this is going. I can't tell you, but I've already written the next chapter in preperation that I'll be gone all next week. I hope you love it as much as I love it.

**Areida Rivers:** Thank you! I didn't even know that about the constant motion thing, but I can understand it. I have a relatively short attention span, so when something doesn't move, I really get bored. It probably flows over into my writing.

**cinnamon:** I'm glad that you like my story! XcD

**Tiger Lily21:** Hmm... A mystery indeed. I get all bubbly inside when people say they like my writing. It's what makes this all worth while.

**Sirenic Griffin:** Or perhaps an enemy that's switched his/her view?

**fell4adeadguy:** My plot's going to beas thick aschocolate pudding (not really!)

**PrincessofRain:** Wee:cD

**panemonium:** They've had to be nice to each other, or else the family wouldn't have survived after their parents died. I think they're all also great characters. Fiona's dress was going to be ready at noon, that's all. And it's girls' rugby that I play.

**Shards of Dawn:** I really like your name, by the way. It's really cool. I love Fiona to death.I think I'm getting better atcharacters. And, yay! Jarrod's back!

**Dragonblade Goddess:** Ah! I'm sorry to leave you all waiting, but thetruth is, there willprobably be a bit of a cliffie atthe end of every chapter until thelast one. It's just the way I like to write.

**tami:** That's a very interestinghypothesis.IhopeI can keep you guys guessing until the very end.

**Phillipaof the Phoenix:** The force is strong with this one!heehee.Fiona and Jarrod need to work a couple of things out. And I'm just the person to push them together to do that.

**livingdead2010: **OKAY:cD

**Dreamer at Heart:** Ah! Exams are the root of all evil. You'll find out... later. ((laughs maniacally))

**rootbeergirl19:** and look! Another one:c)

**Branwen Welsh:** gracias. I don't know why it seems familiar. Perhaps I heard it somewhere and just subconciously used it.

**rainkisser:** You're back! YAY! TROO DAT! Of course he'll get overprotective and he's definately a hottie. yay for adventure!

**little miss tiny shoes:** I don't know ((looks innocent)) yay for 'The Dress.' Maybe it'll help Jarrod think a little (or not!)

You guys have no idea how happy I am right now for no apparent reason. Maybe it's because it's a Pro-D day. That might be it.

Or maybe it's the chocolate.

Lulai

Chapter Seventeen: Denied

"I don't think this will work at all," Fiona muttered under her breath. She ran her hands nervously over her skirt while they bounced in the coach on their way to Jarrod's castle. Unlike their cramped carriage ride to the city, Thomas' vehicle was quite spacious and sat all five of them quite comfortably.

"And you didn't realise the connection between us?" Genevieve was asking Thomas.

He laughed. "I know, ridiculous of me, wasn't it? I knew that you lived at Havara, and I knew that Edward was the Earl of Havara, but I didn't put two and two together until a couple weeks ago when he actually mentioned that he had nieces."

"How many people will be with us tonight?" Nia asked.

Thomas shrugged. "The King, his brother, and his cousin, I think. I told him I was bringing four guests, so I assume he wanted to keep it even."

"Did you not tell him it was us coming?" Josephine asked.

Thomas shook his head. "No. I thought that you would rather like to do that yourselves."

_So he doesn't know,_ Fiona thought, her heart starting to beat faster. Her stomach was tying itself into knots and her hands seemed to follow suit.

Nia laid her hands over Fiona's. "It'll be alright; you'll see," she said as Fiona forced herself to stop wringing her hands. She gave her sister a smile.

"Of course," she said with forced cheeriness.

But as soon as the coach clattered up to the front, Fiona felt a sense of panic creep over her. What was she doing here? She should be at home, mending clothes and reading books!

_Stop it_, she ordered herself, and steeled her backbone as the carriage shuddered to a stop. She was here to help her family.

She took a deep breath, lifted her chin and the hem of her new gown, and stepped out of the carriage.

…

"So who's coming?" Jarrod asked Tyrell for the second time as they stood at the top of the stairs awaiting their guests.

"Lord Turnbull and four guests," Tyrell answered calmly, leaning back on a railing. Warren, on his other side, grinned.

Jarrod almost smiled. "Good. I enjoy Thomas' company. He has a good head on those shoulders. He's expanded his father's shipping business almost thrice-fold."

Tyrell nodded.

"I think they've arrived," Warren said softly.

Tyrell cocked an ear, then nodded. "I think so."

The men descended the stairs to greet their guests.

"Announcing Lord Thomas Fer Turnbull, and Lady Fiona, Lady Genevieve, Lady Iphegenia, and Lady Josephine Fer Havara."

Jarrod's heart skipped a beat and he nearly fell down the stairs. Fiona? Here?

The parties met in the hall and bowed to each other.

"Thomas," Tyrell said, clapping the man on the back, "it's good to see you. And I see you've brought guests."

"Yes," Thomas said. "I'm sure you don't need too much introduction, your majesty, as I heard you had visited Castle Fer Havara recently."

"Yes. The Havara household was very accommodating," he replied. His eyes caught Fiona's, who quickly looked at her toes.

"But where are our manners?" he asked. "Let me take your shawls, and we shall sit down to eat." He motioned to his servants who came forward. His eyes automatically went to Fiona as she took off her shawl to reveal a beautiful blue dress. Her hair was still up in its customary bun, but it revealed her bare shoulders and long graceful neck.

Tyrell walked up to Nia. "May I show you to our dining hall?"

She curtsied and took his arm. "Of course, your highness."

Warren approached Josephine with a soft smile on his face and they walked after the first couple in a similar fashion.

"I'll bring up the rear," Jarrod told Thomas.

"Excellent. Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm to Genevieve.

Jarrod walked up to Fiona. Her hands were grasping each other in what looked like a death grip. He felt a rush of sadness sweep through him that she would look so nervous with him now.

"I trust your ride here was uneventful?" Jarrod said, offering his arm to her. She laid her hand upon it as if she was wary of touching him. They walked down the hall together.

"A little cramped, but not too bad," Fiona replied.

"If I had realised that all four of you would be coming here, I would have sent a larger carriage for you all."

Fiona gave him a small smile. "I'm sure you would, my lord, but we wouldn't want to be a bother."

"Why are you here?" he asked suddenly, but Fiona shook her head.

"We should wait until after dinner so we can discuss it all together."

Jarrod was intrigued, but let it drop.

Fiona wasn't counting on the mere presence of Jarrod to upset her equilibrium. His arm was warm and strong under her hand. She could even smell him. He smelled like warmth and spice, and something inherently Jarrod. She desperately wanted to just lean into him and inhale. She forced herself to remain distant, cool.

"Here we are," he said, squeezing her hand on his arm. There was an empty chair and he led her straight to it. He pulled back the chair… and stopped.

Fiona's dress had no back. The front looked like a normal dress, but the back fell from her arms to a small scoop at the base of her spine. There was nothing but smooth creamy skin from her shoulder blades to her waist. It was quite frankly the most seductive thing he had ever seen.

Fiona knew the exact moment Jarrod saw the back (or lack there of) of her dress. He stopped halfway from pulling out her chair and his breath caught in his throat almost like a gasp. She suddenly felt a new hope for the evening.

"Thank you," she said, looking at him from the corner of her eye as she sat down. His gaze was locked on her bare back, until he visibly shook himself and shuttered his expression.

She placed her serviette on her lap. Jarrod took his seat at the head of the table and almost immediately, a horde of servants came out, laden with dishes of steaming food. She looked longingly at some of it, but resolved to eat little.

"Please, eat as much as you'd like," Jarrod's brother, Tyrell? said. "We wouldn't want anyone to be hungry."

Fiona smiled at him and took a second spoonful of scalloped potatoes.

Dinner went by pleasantly. There was relatively easy talk around the food, none ranging so far from travel to art.

After all the dishes were cleared away, Jarrod clasped his hands together and leaned forward.

"My ladies," he began, "I have quite enjoyed your company, but I do find it a bit difficult to believe you came out here merely to have dinner and a conversation. What is your real purpose here?"

Genevieve looked at Fiona sombrely. "We do have something we need to ask you."

Jarrod nodded. "Perhaps we should retire to the common room?"

The four couples walked down the hall, Tyrell pointing things out, such as paintings and suits of armour, telling them a little about each item's history. Fiona decided she rather liked Tyrell.

"Please," Jarrod said, as they walked into a carpeted room. "Make yourselves comfortable." There was no fire lit in the grate, but the wood was laid in, in case it became cold. Bookshelves filled with their leather bound counterparts lined the room.

"Wow," Fiona said, admiring the books.

"If you think this is impressive, I should show you the Drewery Library," Jarrod murmured to her.

"I would like that," she replied. She found a large carpeted chair to sink into.

"So?" Jarrod asked, standing near a large oak table, it's shiny top glinting back the setting light of the sun. "Why have you come?"

Genevieve stood up. "As much as I'd like to say that this is a visit of purely pleasure, we do have a bit of a problem."

She explained how the former Earl of Havara had disappeared with their money, and about the loans, and the ultimatum.

"Basically," Fiona said when Genevieve stopped, "we are wondering if you can loan us the money to pay back these men."

Jarrod regarded all four hopeful women seriously, leaning a hip on the desk. He shook his head. "I'm terribly sorry, but I cannot."

"But we will pay you back, although it may take a couple years," Fiona insisted.

Jarrod stood up straight and held out his hands. "It's out of my hands," he said. "It's law that the Royal family cannot give out loans."

"There is no hope then?" Josephine asked, looking crestfallen.

Jarrod gave a sad shrug. "I will go through the records tonight and try to find a loophole, but as of now, I cannot see a way. I am sorry."

Fiona nodded sadly. "I know." She stood. "We thank you for your time."

"Just while we're here," Josephine piped up, "I would like to request that you increase your guards in the marketplace."

"Josephine!" Fiona hissed.

"What is this about?" Jarrod asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Nothing, my lord," Fiona answered, casting an evil glare on her sister. "Just a little incident in the market this morning."

"A little incident? You were almost abducted!" Josephine shot back hotly.

What happened Josephine?" Jarrod asked the sister.

Josephine ignored the daggers that Fiona was shooting at her with her eyes and turned to the king. "Two scruffy men grabbed Fiona today while we were out shopping. They nearly took off with her, but we managed to subdue them. They were looking specifically for her too. The one man confessed that she had been described to him."

"I'm sure there are many women with my description," Fiona said.

"There could still be more guards to help all the people there," Josephine defended herself.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Josephine," Jarrod said. "I will certainly look into having more guards put into the market."

"Thank you," she said with a curtsy.

Jarrod, Tyrell, and Warren walked the guests to the door and saw them into the carriage with no incident. Jarrod was disappointed when Fiona's shawl covered the back of her marvellous dress.

He made his way back to his rooms and dismissed his valet. Stripping into his bedclothes, he crawled into the great red monstrosity that was his bed and absentmindedly rubbed his stitches. They were healing quickly, his own doctor said, and they would be out soon. They still itched something fierce, though.

He was absolutely positive that the attack on Fiona was to be used against him somehow. His enemy had seemingly followed him back to the castle, as he found himself almost falling off the balcony from a deliberately loosened railing the day before. If his enemy had somehow found out how much Fiona meant to him, she was no longer safe either.

He had to find someway to keep her close, under his watchful eye.

An idea shook his thoughts. Would it work? It seemed to be the only option left. He just hoped it was the right one.


	18. Conditions

Hello all! I'm back! Our rugby trip was uber fun. We came in 7th, which is the highest any rugby team from our school has placed! Yay! If I can't get the next update up on Saturday morning, it might have to be withheld until Sunday. My grad is on Saturday. (wow, that's scary)

**Tiger Lily21:** Oh, do you now? You're an awesome writer. I've enjoyed all your stories so far. It's easy to make a couple little mistakes now and then, (I've totally had my fair share), and you update way faster than I do! Keep up the good work!

**Areida Rivers:** Hmm... Alone time with Jarrod and Fiona. I have a feeling I'd have to change the rating for that ;cD (just kidding!) Thank you for the compliment! I only have one sister, and we love each other to death, but even we have our spats. And they get violent, I'll tell you.

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** I'm sorry! And, hey! You can't have Obi-Wan in your closet! He belongs in mine... (at least the Ewan McGregor version XcD) But I assure you, there will be plenty of moments for all that Fiona-Jarrod stuff coming up!

**PrincessofRain:** OKAY!

**panemonium:** Which is weird because this story has almost matched 'Cave of Wonders' in number of words, but is still five chapters shorter. I'm not going to tell you if you're right, but you're on the right track. ((mysterious look)) Oh, Tyrell notices, but he thinks it's a good change, so he's not going to say much. And Warren's really really quiet. Tyrell does take Jarrod to task a little in the not the next chapter, but the one after that. And I like that you think out loud. It shows that my story really makes you think. Yay!

**Dreamer at Heart:** Yeah, the kind of, 'Oh, hey! I have grad, a hugechoir concert, and three exams coming up. Hee hee hee ((dies))' That's me in a nutshell right now.

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** Thank you very much. I know how it is. Sometimes I don't get time to review. I hope you are right!

**kyliegirlie22:** Wow, thank you!

**livingdead2010:** Yay! Okay!

**little miss tiny shoes:** That would be a nice change in scenery, wouldn't it?Jarrod should just bite the bullet and do it.

**Glaze:** yay for all the reviews! You are so smart! You must stop guessing (correctly!) my plotlines! XcD I'm just kidding though. You can guess all you want, I won't stop you! It actually is nice to see someone who knows where the story is going. It confirms the fact that the story flows nicely. yay!

**awaiting impatient person:** You sound busy! I know how that feels. I'm just run ragged lately. I hope you have enough time to enjoy the update.

W00T! My legs are bruised, my back is sore, but I'm still so happy!

Lulai

Chapter Eighteen: Conditions

"A letter fer ye, milady," a butler addressed Fiona, holding out a dish with a note on top. Fiona stuck her needles into the bundle of wool and took the letter with a nod of thanks. The butler turned and walked out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.

_Fiona,_

_I may have found a solution to your problem. If you would care to meet me for lunch, it would be greatly appreciated. Please bring along your sisters if you are so inclined._

It was signed, _J_.

Fiona looked at the bold hand, and a sliver of hope wedged its way into her brain. She immediately stood and went to find her sisters.

"Lady Iphaga- Ipheg- Nia is in here," one of the manservants stuttered. Fiona smiled at the furiously blushing boy, who couldn't have been more than fourteen. Nia herself had problems pronouncing her own name until she was seven.

"Nia, where are Genevieve and Josephine?" she asked, entering the room.

Nia looked up from a letter she was writing. "Genevieve went with Josephine back to that place that sold Josephine those earrings the other day. The clasp is loose, and they're hoping to get it fixed. Thomas is with them."

"I need an escort to the palace," Fiona said, cutting to the heart of the matter. "The king may have found an answer to our financial difficulties."

Nia nodded and straightened. "Is this dress alright?"

Fiona shrugged and couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "It's only lunch. There is no need for full eveningwear. I'm just wearing this."

"Okay then," Nia said, following Fiona out the door, closing it behind her.

"Lady Fiona, Lady Nia," Jarrod greeted them as he and his brother met them at the door.

"Hello, your majesty," they said bowing.

"Your other sisters could not make it?"

Fiona shook her head. "Unfortunately not. They were engaged in other things. Your cousin?"

"Warren has business in the city that he needed to take care of. He apologises for not being able to be here."

Tyrell rolled his eyes. "Now that we've established where everyone is, can we go eat?"

Jarrod shot his brother an exasperated glance. "Very well, let us proceed."

They shared lunch in a smaller, sunnier room. The table was laden with fresh fruits. The soup was utterly delicious, and Fiona had taken a third helping before she even noticed. She finally pushed back her bowl.

"Thank you very much," she said, "and I do not wish to seem impatient, but shouldn't we get onto matters?"

Jarrod nodded. "Yes. If you will accompany me to the common room again?"

Nia and Tyrell stood up. They seemed to be quite engaged in a deep discussion.

"They are talking about horses," Jarrod explained to Fiona. She gave a slight blush at being caught eavesdropping. Why did he have such a better sense of hearing than she did? "He's a horse fanatic sometimes."

"He will have met his match in Nia, then," Fiona replied. "She is probably the most knowledgeable horsewoman I know."

"Fiona, his highness has asked if I may want to see the stables," Nia said. "He claims his stalls are twice the size of ours. I simply must see this to believe it."

Fiona looked Jarrod and he raised his eyebrows at her as if to say, _It's your decision._

"Alright," Fiona said to her. "I'll find you there when I am done?"

Nia nodded. Fiona knew that she could spend a whole day away in the stables, admiring the horses.

Jarrod led Fiona to the common room they had been in the night before. He rather liked the room. It was comfortable and masculine without being stifling, and he often found himself conducting business in it. He purposely left the door wide open.

"Now," he said, motioning for her to sit. She chose a wooden chair by the desk. He leaned a hip against the glossy edge. "As I said, I have poured through the law concerning the loans all this morning and I may have found a way for this to work."

"You'll let us have the loan?" Fiona asked, trying not to sound to hopeful.

Jarrod shook his head. "It's not that simple," he said. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand, his eyes closed. "I cannot give you a loan. There are stricter laws against that then for murder. But I have found a way to give your family money."

Fiona looked at him curiously. "And what would that be?"

"A dowry."

"A… a…?" Fiona's lips couldn't seem to function properly, probably because her jaw was hanging open.

Jarrod opened his eyes and looked at her, his hand dropping to his side. "Yes. If you marry me, I will be able to cover all your family's debts."

Fiona finally got her mouth working. "Are you mad?" she asked, standing up from her chair.

"What choice do you have?" he asked sternly. "To let your family fall into ruin? Let your sisters fall from their stations; to have your castle taken from you?"

Fiona realised with sinking finality that he was right. He was her last hope, and if she was to save her family, she would have to marry him.

"Fiona," Jarrod began, straightening, "this wasn't exactly how I wanted things…"

For some reason, this didn't make Fiona feel a whole lot better. In fact, it probably made her feel even worse. It ranked right up there with his apology for kissing her.

"…but I like you, and respect you," he finished. Fiona raised an eyebrow. She hoped that he didn't want a response because she wasn't really in the complimentary mood. "And I won't deny that I find you attractive. And I don't think I'm mistaken when I say you find me attractive as well."

Fiona wanted to deny it; she wanted to tell him where he could shove his arrogant assumptions, but she couldn't, mostly because they were true.

His lips curved up into the broken smile that had become almost dear to her. "I know I'm not exactly what you'd probably hoped for in a husband-"

At this, Fiona let out a very unladylike snort. He really was mad if he thought that he wasn't what any woman would want in a husband.

"But I hope you'll accept me anyway. I really want to help you and your family."

"In return for what?" Fiona asked, softly, but firmly. She wasn't naïve. She knew that things like what he was offering came with a price. She wanted to know what that price was. "Although I believe you're kind, this exceeds any sort of normal generosity. What do you want out of this marriage?"

Jarrod looked taken aback by the question, and his brown eyes were fathomless. He considered her question carefully.

"I want what most men want," he replied finally. "If I am to enter this marriage, and spend the rest of my life with you, I want it to be a real marriage."

Fiona's mouth went dry. "You want an heir."

"I want more than one."

Fiona felt her face grow impossibly hot. He wanted to… wanted to… _wanted to_. With _her_. The thought both scared her and shot a thrill of desire through her nerves. An instinctively curious part of her in the back of her mind wanted to follow his kisses into their logical conclusion.

Jarrod quirked his little half smile. "As my assailant is eager to remind me, I am not immortal. I would like someone to carry on my line."

"I'm not sure if I can do that," Fiona blurted out, her fear getting the best of her. "At least, not yet," she amended.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"If I do marry you," Fiona explained quickly, "I want time to adjust to being both a wife and a queen first before I have to, um… er, engage in intimate relations. Plus, we only met three weeks ago! We're practically strangers, and I would like to get to know you better before… anything happens."

"May I add some conditions on to your conditions?" Jarrod asked. Fiona could not read his expression, but nodded.

"First, I must ask, this condition will not be permanent, will it?" he levelled his gaze at Fiona. She dropped her eyes to the floor.

"No," she said. "I merely want time to adjust to… everything."

"Good. I would also like to point out that I hope this adjustment takes place within the next twenty years. I would like to see my children grow up."

Fiona didn't say anything, but she nodded her head.

"Secondly, I would ask that you do not hold out on me to gain influence over me."

Angry blue-green eyes shot up to his. "I would never do that."

Jarrod cocked his head in her direction. "I thought as much, but I wanted to hear you say it."

"So you agree to my terms?" Fiona asked with a little bit of a shake to her voice.

"Fiona," Jarrod said, walking up to her and placing his warm hands on her shoulders. "I'll be honest with you. I do want you in my bed. But I want you there willing and wanting me as well. Until then, you can rest assured that I will not ask anything of you that you are not prepared to give."

Fiona gulped and pushed all her worries and doubts down. "Then yes, I will marry you."

Jarrod let out a breath he hadn't even been aware he had been holding. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and turned to the desk to apparently write some sort of note. "I will set the date of the ceremony in three days. That should give you sufficient time to contact all your family and have them arrive."

"Three days?" Fiona asked, shocked. "Isn't that a little quick?"

"You only have a few days left to pay off your debts and it may take a few days to transfer that amount of funds."

Fiona nodded, although it felt like her feet had stopped touching the ground. Her life was being swept along, and she, caught like a leaf in the current, had no choice but go with it.

"Here," Jarrod said, his voice suddenly tender. He took a gold ring with an intricate sign of a butterfly in a crown off his pinkie and slid it onto the fourth finger of her left hand.

"It's the Royal Seal," he said. "I'll replace it with something a little more delicate later, but for right now, I want you to use it to buy yourself and your sisters whatever you want, including, but not limited to, a wedding dress." His mouth stretched into a half-grin. "I quite liked that dress you wore to supper last night. I wouldn't mind if your gown was a similar style to that one."

Fiona nodded dumbly. She seemed to be doing a lot of that.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, one of his hands moving to cup her chin so he could look in her eyes.

"Everything is just moving so… fast," she confessed. "I'm sure it'll turn out okay," to both of them, the words sounded uncertain, "but right now I feel as though I'm in a little over my head."

Jarrod nodded in understanding. "Let's go find your sister. I'm sure you'd like some time to prepare."

"Alright," Fiona agreed.

Jarrod took Fiona by surprise and captured her lips in a quick kiss. He was gone before she could even react.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm. She nodded, still recovering from the memory of his lips on hers. They walked through the grand halls of Castle Fer Drewery.

_This is going to be my home_, she thought.

Jarrod didn't say anything to her, giving her a chance to think through everything in her mind.

They found Nia and Tyrell having a daring jumping contest in the training field behind the stables.

Tyrell spotted them first and reigned his horse in before trotting over to where Jarrod and Fiona stood. Jarrod stood slightly in front of Fiona as the horse loomed nearer to her.

Fiona felt she should have been angry with him for imposing himself in front of her in such a way, but instead she felt relieved that the horse would have to go through him before it bit her.

Tyrell dismounted and turned to help Nia off her horse.

"That was an exhilarating ride, your highness," Nia said as her feet hit the ground. "Thank you very much."

"The pleasure was all mine," he said, bowing.

The carriage arrived for the two girls a few minutes later.

"That was a very pleasant visit," Nia said to Fiona. "What did the King have to say to you?"

"I'll tell everyone all together, so I don't have to tell the same story three times," Fiona said. She returned her gaze out the window and rubbed the ring absently.


	19. Family

Ah! Grad Grad Grad Grad Grad Grad! I'm bouncing off the walls already, and it's not even 9:00. Boom-pah! Weee!

**fell4adeadguy:** Hey, you're totally allowed to think that. I personally think that's a horrible way to start a marriage, but they both feel they _have_ to do it.

**panemonium:** Not quite hitched yet, but yeah. I'm glad I surprised you. And, you're right, Jarrod isn't really an emotional guy. Fiona's going to have to beat his past out of him with a stick. Silly man.

**livingdead2010:** Yay:cD

**PrincessofRain:** Okay!

**Dreamer at Heart:** They're getting there. I'm almost done. (Whoo!) Math is killer, though.

**Tiger Lily21:** I'm sorry to hear that. I toyed around about having him invite her to be a seamstress in his castle so he could keep an eye on her, but I thought 'How much more fun could I have if they were married?' I decided, lots. So here we are.

**Akwyn:** Yeah. It really did have to happen sometime.Unfortunately, Jarrod isn't overly romantic, although he can be sweet in his own way. Fiona has her work cut out for her.

**Areida Rivers:** It was fast, as I'm sure Annabelle will tell you. Thank you on the congrads! Ours is supposed to be only two hours long, but we have about 300 of us, so I think it's going to be closer to three. Yay for kissing! ((giggles))

**awaiting impatient person:** Wee! He wants to_hug_ her; he want to _kiss_ her; he wants to ((censored out by pg-13 rating)) her. Rubgy is fun. It's a lot of running and being tackled. Basically, it's kind of like American Football, only there are no stops, only a couple set plays, and you're not allowed to touch the person if they don't have the ball. Thank you! You're so energetic, it makes me so happy!

**Glaze:** Yes, you were right, like always ((grins)) You could almost write my stories for me. I guess you'll have to wait and see about your next hunch.

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** No problem. It's such a Jarrod move. He's one of those guys that thinks he needs to save the world single-handedly. Yeah, that log-in thing was happening to me too, only it was reviewing. I couldn't review anything for a while.

**rootbeergirl19: **Thanks! I love how you put that. They're together... sorta.

**littlelambug:** Thank you! I'm glad you enjoy my stories. It's so fun to write them and see other people like them as well.

Okay guys, here's the scoop. I don't usually ask for reviews cause I figure I'll write and post this story whether I get reviews or not, but I'm gonna make you a deal. If you guys put me over 200 reviews, I'll not only update early (and still stay in the regular update schedual) but it'll be a double-long chapter! If I don't get 200, I'll post it next week like normal, but to give you an incentive hint, it's the wedding chapter.

Later!

Lulai

Chapter Nineteen: Family

"Ah, I was wondering when you two were getting back," Genevieve said to Fiona and Nia as they handed their shawls to Harding. She finished descending the stairs and walked over to them.

"Did you talk with the king?" she asked. "And where did that ring come from?"

"Yes," Fiona answered. "Where is Josephine? I'd rather tell everyone at once."

"I'm right behind you," she said. She brushed back her hair, showing off her earrings. "How do they look?"

"Beautiful," Nia said, walking over to examine them. "So they fixed the clasp?"

"Of course, although it cost me another copper." Josephine sighed. "I really shouldn't be spending too much money, given our present situation, but they're so pretty."

"Our situation might have changed," Genevieve said. She turned to Fiona. "What did the king tell you?"

"Can we sit down?" Fiona asked. The sisters shrugged and they walked into the solarium. It wasn't as sunny as the one at home, but it was decorated in a lovely shade of blue. She wondered what the solarium in Castle Fer Drewery was like.

"So?" Genevieve persisted, crossing her ankles as she sat down on a powder blue sofa. "Will the king give us the loan?"

"No," Fiona said. "But we've found a way to pay all our debts."

"How?" Josephine asked.

"I'm getting married."

Utter silence met her pronouncement. The sisters stared at her in absolute shock. Fiona looked from one to the other, waiting for someone to speak.

Genevieve recovered first. "I assume that it's to the king," she said, raising an eyebrow.

Fiona nodded. "Yes. We came to an arrangement this afternoon."

"And so you're just going to marry him?" Josephine asked her in disbelief.

"If I 'just' marry him," Fiona said with a bit of a glare at her sister, "he is willing to pay off all our debts." She spread her hands in a gesture of understanding. "This whole thing is bigger than I am. It's about you all and the people back in the village who will starve without their money and crops."

"So, you've made up your mind then?" Genevieve asked softly.

Fiona nodded firmly. Then she gave a weak grin. "Besides, I get to be queen."

Nia made an appreciative noise. "And there are worse men to look at for the rest of your life than King Jarrod."

Fiona blushed.

"Will you be happy?" Genevieve asked her seriously. "You told me once that you thought another woman held his heart."

Fiona closed her eyes. She had almost forgotten about the infamous Belinda. Almost. She opened her eyes again, her jaw set determinedly. "I think she still does. He doesn't love her, exactly, but somehow, she's created a sort of shell around him. Hopefully, I can figure out how to break that, and even if he doesn't love me, he can be a whole person again."

Genevieve nodded sombrely, absorbing this. "You should write the others. I'm sure they would want to be in town for this."

Fiona nodded and stood. Nia surprised her by hugging her tightly.

"You tell me the moment you are unhappy," Nia said with tears in her eyes. "I will be there in an instant to take you back."

Fiona patted Nia's back comfortingly. "Don't worry, I will. But for some reason, I don't think I will be unhappy. I do like him, for all his faults."

"Nia, let her write those letters," Genevieve commanded her younger sibling. A grin crossed her face and she stood, brushing out her skirt. "Then we are going to get you a wedding dress."

…

"Fiona Fer Havara! Where are you?"

Fiona winced and nearly got stuck with a pin from Madam Lily, a slight stick of a woman with a hawk nose and a kind smile. She was an assistant to Madam Geraldine, the woman who had made the first dress. Madam Geraldine had been far too swamped with orders to make it out to the Turnbull residence, but, seeing as it was such a prestigious client (fiancée of the king, no less!) she sent her equally capable partner.

"Now, donna move, milady," Madam Lily said around the pins in her mouth. "I donna wanna poke ye."

"I am trying my best, my good lady," Fiona responded, "but that bellow from the hall came from my eldest sister, who has just arrived, I gather."

"Fiona, what do you think you're doing?" Annabelle charged into the room, still wearing her travelling clothes. Fiona's other six sisters were hot on her heels. "Getting married? _Tomorrow_? And only giving us two days to get here? Where is he? Did you not even think to consult me before you went about accepting proposals from anyone?"

"Fiona? Where are you?" another voice called out in the hallway. Cassie bounded into the room, holding hands with her husband Geoffrey.

"It's a good thing we were back from our honeymoon on schedule," she exclaimed, "or else we probably wouldn't have time to have made it."

"How was your honeymoon?" Daphne asked her.

"Beautiful!" Cassie gushed. "I love the sea. It's so calm and tranquil most of the time, and the sunsets are gorgeous! We're planning on going back there some day."

"Didn't the smell bother you?" Elizabeth asked.

"A little bit at first, but I soon got used to it," Cassie explained.

"You should tell her about the fish incident," Geoffrey urged his wife.

Cassie threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, that was so hilarious! You see, we were walking down the street when a man carting a wheelbarrow full of fish wheeled right past us at a breakneck pace…"

"Fiona Fer Havara! Are you in here?"

"Oh Lord," Fiona sighed. This was getting ridiculous. To her credit, Madame Lily barely batted an eyelash and continued on, pinning the last few pieces of fabric to her dress.

Bernadette waddled in at almost a dead run (for being so pregnant), her husband right behind her.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded of Fiona.

"What do you think _you're_ doing?" Bernadette's husband, Phillip, demanded of her. "If I ever see you jump out of the carriage like that again, I will personally tie you to the bed for a week."

"Oh, pish-posh, Phillip," Bernadette said, whirling on her husband. "I won't suddenly burst into labour because I climbed out of a carriage a little fast. I've already given birth to three beautiful children, and I know what to expect."

"Where are your children?" Nia asked. "I'd love to see them."

"We left them with Nanny," Phillip explained, Nanny being his widowed mother who also lived with them. "They simply adore her, and she, unfortunately, spoils them rotten."

"Did you see many boats?" Josephine asked of Geoffrey and Cassie.

"Huge ones," Geoffrey replied. "At least three masts! We even stepped foot aboard one, didn't we?"

"Yes, and wasn't that a thrill!" Cassie said. "The wind in your hair and the knowledge that there wasn't any land underneath your feet."

"We'll have to take a small boat ride for our anniversary," Geoffrey promised, rubbing his nose affectionately against Cassie's.

"Harmony!" Genevieve raced to embrace her twin. "I've missed you!"

Harmony's eyes twinkled. "While you've been here, gallivanting about the city," she teased softly, "I've been at home, working hard on the Oppag piece."

Genevieve laughed and flipped her hand in a 'doesn't matter' gesture. "That's good. I've had the Oppag piece down for months."

Madame Lily bit off the last string. After giving the dress a nod of satisfaction, she began to pack her belongings back up.

"Why are you even here?" Daphne asked Bernadette.

Bernadette snorted. "As if I'd miss my own sister's wedding. And to the king! Besides, all three of my children have been late, so I doubt that this one will suddenly surprise me and be early."

Phillip laughed and put his arms about his wife. "Although now that you've said that, it's going to happen."

Bernadette wrinkled her nose. "Yes, it always happens like that doesn't it?"

Fiona watched her madcap family in silence, standing in the middle of the room like a statue while conversation ebbed and flowed all around her. Suddenly, Fiona was glad she was marrying Jarrod. Although she always felt she belonged, Fiona very rarely felt like she fit into her family.

There were moments when she was with Jarrod that made her feel like they were meant for each other. Like a broken stick, where the two halves mesh perfectly. The man had his secrets, and so did she, but underneath his hard, sad shell, she realised there was a man who, with time and encouragement, might grow to, if not love her, at least cherish and value her.

"Can we please get back to the most important issue here?" Annabelle asked, tapping her toe.

Bernadette rolled her eyes. "And what is that?"

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps that Fiona is getting married _tomorrow_?"

"She's one and twenty, for gosh sakes, Annabelle," Genevieve piped up. "She's allowed to make her own decisions."

The room exploded into discussion and argument again.

Harding looked poked his head in, and without changing expression, carefully moved through the gaggle of girls to Fiona, still standing, pinned in the middle of the room. She admired his self-composure.

"Fer ye, milady," he said, handing her a box. Fiona carefully tore the paper off to find a velvet box of the deepest green. She opened the box and gasped.

Inside lay a delicate necklace and two earrings made of brilliant aquamarine. There was a note folded beside them. She managed to open it with one hand.

They are not quite the colour of your eyes, but they were my mother's. I sincerely hope you wear them tomorrow.

It was signed, _J_.

Tears stung behind her eyes. This was a priceless gift. To give her something of his mother's must have really cost him. She remembered how possessive she was of her parents' things when they first died.

This brought a fresh wave of tears. They began to roll down her cheeks, and she couldn't even mop them up because her hands were full.

"Fiona?" All conversation stopped as they looked at their weeping sister, standing in her wedding gown.

"Fiona, are you alright?" Bernadette asked.

"What's wrong?" Concern pinched Nia's face as she weaved her way through the crowded room.

"I'm so glad you're all here," Fiona said with a small laugh through her tears.

"But?" Genevieve interjected.

Fiona's voice dropped to a whisper. "I wish Mother and Father were here too."

The sisters' faces fell. They all looked at each other sadly.

"So do we all, Fiona," Annabelle said finally. She walked up to her sister, pulling a kerchief out of her pocket. She carefully mopped up Fiona's tears. "But I'm sure, where ever they are, they're looking out for you. They'll be at that wedding, in person or not."

"Thanks, Annabelle," Fiona whispered.

"These are beautiful!" Josephine said, coming up behind Fiona to admire the jewels. "And they match your dress perfectly. How did he know?"

Fiona, her eyes still feeling slightly puffy, smiled. "I'll have to ask him tomorrow."


	20. Wedding

Ye review, I deliver. You guys are fantastic. Now that I'm back in the land of the living (I slept pretty much all day) I'm gonna update! Woot! **200** reviews!

**Tiger Lily21:** Thank you so much! I think you're an excellent writer yourself, and I always enjoy reading your stuff.

**Areida Rivers:** I try to keep the sister's pretty simple with a few distinguishing characteristics, just because ten fully developed characters would be way too hard. Jarrod's not a complete bone-head (most of the time) and I'm glad you like the necklace.

**panemonium:** I'm going to take that as a good comment! She's going to have a little trouble adjusting from the country to the city.Some of theother nobleswon't like it, but really, they know that they can't say anything to his face.

**PrincessofRain: **Hm. I don't know. I'm glad you liked it though.

**nala:** Thank you for all the suggestions! A lot of my plot has already been thought through in my head, but I might take some of the other things and use them. Your comments are really nifty, thank you! I'm actually from Western Canada. :c/

**Sirenic Griffin:** Ah! You're too smart for me! I totally laughed when I read your comment, it was great!

**rainkisser:** yay! I'm glad you liked that scene. I had it totally pictured in my head, and I was wondering if I got it across right. I'm glad I did. I haven't eaten cheese curds in, like, forever. I'm the only one who likes them, so my mom doesn't buy them a lot. This has been my favourite story to write so far. I love Fiona. She's my hero. I'm glad you like the dress. I think Jarrod liked it too. ;c) Oh, you're off by one! Poor you! Someone else sneaked in at the last moment! Here's the update for you!

**cathrine5:** Hee hee, yeah, I know. But I do have school, and some semblence of a life, so I can't really update all that often. Go Fiona!

**awaiting impatient person: **I really hope you like this chapter; there's some ravishing goin' on! Wee! I love your energy, don't ever lose it. Unfortunately, there might not be a honeymoon, for a couple reasons. One: Fiona's not ready to do the lovin' (which I think is a major part of a honeymoon) and Two: There is still someone out there who kinda wants to kill Jarrod. But all will be well I swear!

**Glaze:** Don't you just love that feeling? When a chapter is so sweet, you just feel all bubbly inside? I know I do.

**fell4adeadguy:** yay! Imagine what Fiona was feeling, with all that noise around her. But, maybe she's used to it.

**anonymous:** Thanks!

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** I hope Fiona feels okay, but I have a feeling she going to get sofrustrated with her husband that she might end up beating him.

**always belle:** I know how that is. School is pretty crazy for me as well. I'm glad you like my story!

**charmed:** Thanks. :c)

**little miss tiny shoes: **Okay!Here's the wedding to sake your bloodlust! (just kidding!)

**littlelambug:** I tried to make it come out that way, like you couldn't even think straight because so many people are talking, and you only get a little glimpse into their conversations.

**rootbeergirl19:** Here it is! It's a little late because I was up until 6 this morning, and then slept until about noon, then ate lunch, then slept again until five. Then my sister was on the computer, but here it is!

**Dragonblade Goddess:** That's okay that you're not 200; every review counts. Jarrod has to many guards at his wedding for the assassin to even think about making an attempt. He's on top of things. :c)

Whoo, that's a lot of reviews. Thanks so much guys!

**_WARNING:_** I haven't gotten many (or any, for that matter)complaints about this, but just for my sake of mind, there is some, er, racy stuff later in the chapter. I'm still going to keep this strictly pg-13 (ie: no lemons) but my characters are very passionate people, so expect some sizzly stuff. If you're offended, don't say I didn't warn you.

I'll see you all next Saturday!

Lulai

Chapter Twenty: Wedding

"Are you completely sure about this?" Tyrell asked his brother as they stood at the front of the hall, awaiting the entrance of the bridal party.

"Sure about what?" Jarrod asked distractedly.

"About serving Karridon cheese at the banquet," Tyrell said sarcastically. "About marrying this girl, of course!"

Jarrod shrugged. "It's the only way to help her and her family."

"The only way?"

"Yes," Jarrod replied. "You know as well as I do the laws against loans. I'm not about to leave their family to the wolves."

"But to marry her?"

Warren walked up to them. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked.

"Nothing," Jarrod said casually.

Tyrell shook his head. "He's getting married, and he doesn't seem to care, that's the problem."

"Of course I care," Jarrod said.

Warren looked at him worriedly. "She _is_ the first woman you've looked twice at since Belinda," he said. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"What is the matter with you two?" Jarrod asked, anger creeping into his voice. "Just a few weeks ago you were practically commanding me to get a wife, and now that I am, you are both set against it. What do you want?"

Tyrell sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit that seemed to be almost a family trait.

"I just want you to be sure about this," Tyrell said. "If you're doing it for her, or for you."

"What?" Jarrod asked.

"As long as you aren't just using her as a bed warmer."

Jarrod whirled on his brother furiously. "Is that what you think this is? That I'm just marrying her to get her in my bed?"

"She is very pretty," Tyrell said, "and from what you've told me, eternally loyal. It isn't a very difficult conclusion to reach."

"You're wrong," Jarrod said darkly, wondering why his normally intelligent brother was spouting such drivel.

"Am I?" Tyrell looked at him squarely. "Can you honestly tell me that you've never thought of Fiona in your bed?"

"Yes," Jarrod replied harshly. On the floor, against a wall, in the dirt even. But not yet in his bed. That would make the fantasy all to real, and as it was right now, one that wasn't going to happen for a while.

"You lie."

Jarrod had always thought himself a peaceful man, but he was very close to beating his brother within an inch of his life.

"God, Tyrell, I like her, okay?" he snarled. "Yes, I want her, but I also like her."

A small smile crept across Tyrell's face. "That's all I wanted to know."

Jarrod glared at his brother, but was interrupted from saying anything by the arrival of the Havara's.

"How many did you say there were?" Warren asked.

"There are ten sisters, two of them are married," Jarrod responded. "They also go alphabetically by name, if you're interested."

"We'd better be getting down there," Tyrell said, checking his watch. "It's almost four."

Jarrod nodded and they made their way up to the dais at the front of the hall.

"Here we go," he muttered to himself, and signalled for the ceremony to begin.

…

Fiona stood behind the doors to the hall, being overlooked by the portraits of all the past ruling monarchs. There were a mixture of serious and smiling couples, and a few singular monarchs, most of them male. Her eyes automatically went to the last one. It wasn't Jarrod; perhaps he hadn't had time yet to get his portrait done.

Instead, it was a husband and wife. They looked as though they were trying to go for a serious picture, but there were smiles playing about their mouths and eyes, as if they were sharing a private joke and were trying very hard not to laugh.

The woman was extraordinarily beautiful. She had long flowing honey blonde hair and deep green eyes that seemed to be almost trademark of the Drewery's. The man also had blond hair but his was a deeper straw colour. His eyes were a deep brown.

Around the woman's throat lay a necklace of aquamarine stones set in shining silver. Fiona's hand went involuntarily to her own neck.

_These must be Jarrod's parents,_ Fiona thought with a start.

"Er, milady?" the guard asked her, breaking her reverie. "I think that was tha signal ta go in."

"Wha?" Fiona asked. "Oh, thank you." Her heart started beating double-time and the hands that gripped her teak roses suddenly became sweaty. This was it. Her last moments as Lady Fiona Fer Havara. Soon, she would be Queen Fiona Par Drewery.

Scary thoughts.

She heard chairs scrape against the floor as she entered the great hall. She kept her gaze about two feet in front of her as not to trip and make a complete idiot out of herself in front of everyone standing there.

If Fiona's heart was beating double, Jarrod's heart nearly stopped as soon as she stepped in the room. She was wearing a beautiful dress of turquoise. The gentle scoop of her neckline ran off her shoulders, a look she seemed to favour (of which Jarrod had no problem with), with tight sleeves ending in a point on the back of her hand. Bronze ribbon accented the neckline, the line around her hips, and her hem. A veil sprouted from the top of her bun to drag along with her train, also trimmed with bronze ribbon. His mother's jewels sparkled at her graceful throat and about her ears.

"For God's sake, breath man!" Tyrell whispered, giving his brother a nudge.

Jarrod took the hint and sucked some much-needed oxygen back into his lungs.

Fiona could feel all the eyes on her, although she only cared about one set. She couldn't seem to stop her eyes from travelling up onto the dais.

There couldn't be anyone more handsome in attendance than Jarrod was right then. He looked like one straight out of the Faerie Court. Only his standard clothing and the fact that Fiona herself stitched up his arm belied his mortal status.

Which only served to make Fiona nervous. Why did he choose her? She wasn't worthy of him. She wasn't wealthy, she wasn't high royalty, she wasn't even extraordinarily beautiful.

_Oh, this is good, Fiona_, she said to herself wryly, _having doubts halfway down the aisle._

She looked back down at the floor, continuing forward at her stately pace. The length of the hall seemed to be forever, until she finally reached the platform. Jarrod offered her his arm, which she took.

She glanced at him shyly through her eyelashes and found that he was looking at her as well. His chocolate brown eyes were void of their usual sobriety; instead they were filled with something that made her stomach flutter. Something… warm.

"You look very lovely today," he murmured, as they made their way to the priest at the front.

"Thank you, so do you," she replied. She realised her error. "Uh, look handsome, I mean," she added on nervously.

They stopped and turned to face the priest. Jarrod reached and took her hand. She was a little self-conscious, as she knew her hand must feel clammy, but he held on firmly anyway. Fiona clenched Jarrod's hand tightly, and he gave her a gently reassuring squeeze. She could hear the chairs scrape again as everyone sat down.

"State your names and your intentions," the priest intoned.

"I, King Jarrod Fer Drewery, hereby declare my intentions to take this woman, Lady Fiona Fer Havara, as my legally wedded wife." Jarrod spoke loudly, so even though he was facing away from the crowd, they could still hear him.

The priest nodded, and turned to Fiona.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm her heart, which felt as though it was trying to escape her chest. "I, Lady Fiona Fer Havara, hereby declare my intentions to accept this man, King Jarrod Fer Drewery, as my legally wedded husband."

There was a slight murmur at that. Fiona realised she had not said the exact right words, being, 'to be his legally wedded wife,' but she really needed some type of control over this wedding, and to mention that he was hers just as much as she was his made her feel a little better.

The priest gave her what was for him a good glare. However, she knew that Jarrod wasn't insulted, as the corner of his mouth was tucked up in almost a grin.

"Who gives this woman into marriage?" the priest asked.

Annabelle stood. "I, Countess Annabelle Fer Havara, give this woman, Lady Fiona Fer Havara, into marriage."

The priest nodded. "Bring out the rings and the scroll."

Two small pageboys hurried forward, one carrying a large piece of parchment and an inkwell with a quill, the other a small velvet box.

Jarrod went first, taking the quill and signing the parchment that the boy set down on the small table designed specifically for that use. He held out his hand to Fiona, and she realised she was still wearing his seal. She pulled it off her finger and handed it to him. He pressed it into the ink and stamped it beside his name.

Fiona took the quill and placed it on the space for her name. This was her last chance to reconsider, but she knew that she had to go through with it. The reasons for this wedding were taking up the entire first row of the audience.

She signed her name.

"Our Mighty Creator," the priest intoned when she was done, "made everything from the Faerie Court to the earth that we till. But one of the most important creations was the joining of a man and a woman. A ring signifies this special bond, in that its band is never ending. Neither shall their love end."

Jarrod took Fiona's hand and slid the ring that the boy passed to him onto her third finger. Fiona gasped. It was beautiful, and looked awfully expensive. It was a light purple stone, an amethyst, set in a smooth silver band.

Likewise, she took his hand and slid the ring she had purchased onto his finger. It was a simple gold band with etching lightly across the outside. It was simple and plain; he was extremely pleased that she had picked the perfect for ring for him.

She finished sliding the ring onto his finger and he held her hand firmly in his.

The priest clapped his hands together and bowed to them. "In the eyes of God," he said, "and by the law of Protantia, you are now husband and wife. May I present King Jarrod Fer Drewery and his wife, Queen Fiona Par Drewery. You may kiss your bride."

Fiona's eyes widened. She had completely forgotten about the final part of the ceremony. She had to kiss him in front of all these people, her family, and everyone?

Jarrod's lips pressed against hers, cool and firm, and she closed her eyes to savour the moment. It was gone before she could even bask in it for a second. Thunderous applause greeted them as they turned from the front and made their way into the dining hall.

Fiona gasped as they entered the grand dining hall. No expense had been spared. The walls were lined with gauzy fabric of soft blue hues, illuminated by a wealth of wax candles. The table was so laden with food that Fiona was surprised it didn't collapse in on itself.

"My lady," Jarrod murmured to her as he pulled back her chair to let her sit down. She gathered up the leagues of fabric behind her and sat down in a rustle of taffeta.

"Thank you," she said shyly to her new husband. Her husband!

"I didn't know what you would want, so I made a little of everything," Jarrod admitted.

"It looks wonderful," Fiona said truthfully, her mouth already watering at the smell of all the food. She dug in heartily.

"Whoever your cook is," she said after finishing a second helping of roast duck with a particularly delicious gravy, "you must give them a raise."

"Consider it done," Jarrod said, the corner of his mouth tucking up. He hadn't seen that dimple in a while, and he realised how much he missed it. She had been so nervous through the entire ceremony, he felt for sure that she was about to bolt. But now she was chatting pleasantly with his brother and cousin.

Fiona finally laid her fork and knife down on the plate.

"Done already?" Jarrod said, after he swallowed another bite of lamb.

"I must save room for dessert if it's anything as good as dinner," Fiona said.

He signalled the cook for dessert. "I hope you don't have any lingering memories from your unpleasant experience."

"Lemon custard!" Fiona exclaimed as the dessert was laid before her. "I love lemon custard. It's my favourite dessert!"

"I know," Jarrod said with his half-grin. "You've told me before."

But Fiona was too engrossed in her dessert to even hear him.

"May I have this dance, your majesty?" Tyrell offered a hand to her.

"I'd be delighted. And please, call me Fiona. After all, we're almost brother and sister," Fiona said. She removed her veil and left it on the chair.

Tyrell walked her over to the dance floor where the other couples were whirling in their brightly coloured dresses and somber suits.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Immensely," she responded, her feet automatically adopting the four beat rhythm.

"I hope you are happy," he said. Fiona realised that he wasn't really talking about the party alone.

"I think I will be," she said seriously.

"Good." He smiled. "I think you'll make my brother happy." She nodded, extremely pleased at his compliment. Tyrell looked a lot like his brother. The same sandy blonde hair that liked to fall across their forehead. Same strong nose, same square chin. The only real difference was that Tyrell's eyes were slightly more hazel while Jarrod's were a deep chocolate brown.

The song ended, and they clapped politely for the musicians.

"Mind if I have the next dance?"

At the sound of the familiar deep voice, Fiona's heart started to pound. Tyrell handed her over graciously.

Jarrod swept Fiona into a dizzying waltz. He held her closer than was customary, but Fiona didn't mind. Truth be told, she enjoyed the tingle that ran through her at the brush of his thigh against hers and the incidental contact of their hips.

She realised she had a grin that stretched from ear to ear, but she couldn't seem to help herself. And when Jarrod swung her around so fast that her feet lifted off the ground, she threw back her head and laughed.

Her laugh startled him, and he found himself smiling along with her.

The dance ended and Fiona was still smiling, her eyes sparkling like silver.

"Thank you, my lord," she said.

"You can call me Jarrod," he said, kissing her palm. The act was oddly intimate, and Fiona blushed slightly.

"Alright, Jarrod," she said, and took his hand in another dance.

The party lasted well into the night and into the early morning, until very few of the people remained, mostly the bride and groom's families. Fiona was seated in a chair at the edge, a glass of punch in her hand, trying to stop her eyelids from drooping. Cassie and Bernadette gave each other a look.

"Your majesty," Bernadette addressed Jarrod. "Is there somewhere we may talk to our sister before we leave?"

"Of course," Jarrod said. "You can talk to her in her bedroom. I'm sure Vera here can show you the way."

The serving maid nodded and motioned them to follow her. Fiona stood up.

"In here, milady," Vera said softly, motioning. Fiona entered the room and gasped.

It was decorated in different shades of lilac. She had no idea how Jarrod knew, but somehow he did, just as he seemed to know everything. She wanted to jump onto her bed, but she was afraid of tearing her dress.

"You said you needed to talk to me?" Fiona asked her sisters, touching the desk, the coverlet on the bed, the doors to her wardrobe. This was all hers now.

Bernadette smoothed a hand over her round stomach and shared another look with Cassie.

"As we are the only married sisters, besides you of course," Bernadette began, "Annabelle decided that we would be the ones to give you your wedding night talk."

"Wedding night?" Fiona asked, stopping her inspection of her room to look at her sisters quizzically.

Cassie sighed and sat on the bed. "There are certain things your husband will expect and we don't want you to be frightened."

Fiona's cheeks were burning quite fiercely by that time. "I don't think I need to be told anything," she blurted out.

Her sisters gave her horrified looks. Fiona realised what that sounded like and if anything, turned even redder.

"I mean, we aren't going to be doing anything," she said, trying to pry her foot out of her mouth. "My marriage isn't like your marriage. You two married for love. I married for money." Her lips twisted wryly at that. She didn't realise how mercenary it sounded until she said it out loud.

She smiled at her sisters reassuringly. "We have a marriage of convenience. And Jarrod promised to wait until I was ready before we consummated anything."

"And when will you be ready?" Bernadette asked, casting a critical eye on her sister.

Fiona shrugged. "When I'm sure that he wants me for me. I'm not naïve enough to think that he'll fall head over heels, but I want to think that he would like me more than just as the mother of his heirs."

She yawned. "If you could help me undress, I think I'll go to bed. I'm dead tired."

Cassie nodded and helped her out of her gown and train. Fiona slipped on the nightgown that was laid out on her bed. It was white silk and felt oh-so-smooth on her skin. She couldn't resist running her hands over it.

She gave both her sisters a kiss. "Give everyone my love. I'll see them tomorrow."

"Good night, your majesty," Bernadette said.

"'Night, Fiona," Cassie said at the same moment.

"'Night," Fiona mumbled and climbed into bed.

Jarrod stood up from the table with his few remaining guests.

"We really should be getting home," Annabelle said, more to her sisters than to him.

"I thank you all for coming," he said politely, and meant it. "I think I see the other two of your party returning now."

Bernadette walked straight up to Jarrod, a woman on a mission.

"You treat her well," she commanded the king, shaking her finger at him, "or king or no, I'll have to come up here and do something I might regret."

"I would never mistreat Fiona," Jarrod said. "You have no need to worry."

Bernadette looked him up and down, sizing him up, and he didn't flinch away from her gaze. She finally nodded at him and let her husband escort her into the carriage.

Jarrod watched the Havara household depart towards the Turnbull residence, fading into the darkness of the city.

"Congratulations," Tyrell said to him, clapping him on the back as Jarrod headed towards the stairs and his bed.

"Thanks," Jarrod said sincerely, gripping Tyrell's hand affectionately.

"I supposed now you'll want us out of your hair," Tyrell said, "so you and your new wife can live here in peace."

"Nonsense," Jarrod scoffed. "This is yours and Warren's home as much as it is mine. I still might need you to run ambassador errands for me, but don't you ever think that I'm kicking you out of here."

"Thanks," Warren said softly. "That means a lot to me."

Warren's mother, Jarrod and Tyrell's aunt, was a spiteful old witch who first announced that Warren was a bastard, then kicked him out of the house so she could claim the title after her husband died. Jarrod's parents took Warren in (Jarrod's mother hated her sister, ever since they were little) and he had been part of their family ever since.

"I should be getting to bed. It's late," Jarrod said.

Tyrell winked at Warren, who grinned. "I'm sure he's real eager to get to bed. Well, don't let us stop you." They went off their own way, grinning ear to ear.

Jarrod resisted the urge to sigh. He really wasn't looking forward to sleeping in his empty bed, but he _was_ tired. He entered his room and Robertson jumped up. He had apparently been waiting on Jarrod and had nodded off.

"Go get some sleep, Robertson," Jarrod said, dismissing him. "I'm a big boy. I can get ready for bed myself."

"As ye wish, yer majesty," his valet said, yawning and bowing. He closed the door quietly behind him.

Jarrod had just finished taking off his shirt when he heard a door open behind him.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if I could get a glass of wa- Jarrod?" Fiona stood in the doorway, clutching a pink wrapper tightly around her body. Pink didn't suit her hair. He made a mental note to get her a blue one, or maybe green.

"Yes?" he asked after a few minutes. Her mouth was hanging open slightly, and she had not moved since her exclamation.

She shook her head slightly, and her cheeks immediately went bright pink, noticeable even in the soft candlelight.

"I'm sorry," she apologised quickly. "I was going to go to sleep, but I found that when my head hit the pillow, I wasn't even tired anymore, so when I heard some people talking through the door, I thought that maybe there were some servants in the hall that I could ask for a glass of water, maybe some milk to help me sleep better, but I didn't know that this was your room, and I'm sorry to have caught you while you were, uh, dressing, and…" She seemed to run out of words at this point, and went back to staring at him.

"Well, we do have connecting rooms, for various purposes," Jarrod said. He walked a little closer to her, so that they could talk a little quieter.

"It was a lovely ceremony today," Fiona said nervously, trying to change the subject. Jarrod let her.

"I'm glad your entire family could make it on such short notice."

"Yes, although Annabelle had a few complains about that," Fiona said, gladdened by the change in topic.

"But your dress was very lovely. I'm glad Madame Geraldine was so accommodating." Although his mouth was having a conversation, his mind was busy thinking of ways to free her hair from that blasted bun. It had become almost an obsession with him. He wanted to run his fingers through it.

"Madame Geraldine was too busy," Fiona said, unaware of the turn Jarrod's thoughts had taken. "She had to send her assistant, Madame Lily."

"Nonetheless, your dress was very beautiful. I'm glad my mother's jewels matched it so perfectly."

"Yes," Fiona mumbled. She looked up at him, her eyes large and soft in the candlelight. "I know how hard it must have been to let anyone use them." She took a deep breath, as if deciding whether or not to tell him something. She seemed to decide in the positive because she said, "I remember when my parents first died, I stole a pillow from their bed and didn't let anyone touch it." Her face dropped away from his, obviously trying to control tears. "It was a few years before I could sleep without it."

"I understand," Jarrod said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Fiona looked at him curiously. "Actually, I think you do. You always seem to understand me. Honestly, it's a little scary."

"I'm sorry to scare you," he said with a soft smile. He cupped her chin and his lips were on hers before he could stop himself. It was so natural, kissing Fiona; it was like breathing. He knew he shouldn't, but she tasted so sweet, and she made him forget himself for a while.

Fiona didn't want to touch him. She knew that as soon as she touched him, she'd be lost. She kept her hands clenched in her robe and tried to ignore the feelings that were causing her toes to curl in the lush carpet. She nearly succeeded, but then his tongue feathered out to caress the softness of her inner lower lip. With a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan, she leaned into the kiss, welcoming his intimacy.

Jarrod deepened the kiss, and her hands went instinctively to his chest. Her wrapper fell open, but she didn't care. He was her husband, right? She had never been this close to a naked _anything_ before, much less a man's chest. His skin was so warm under her fingertips, she couldn't help but run her hands over his broad shoulders.

He shuddered and dug his fingers into her hair, holding her head still as he plundered her mouth. Fuelled by the knowledge that she – plain old Fiona! – had been the reason for his shudder, she skimmed her fingers over the muscles of his back. He answered with a growl and pushed her wrapper off her shoulders. Now there was only a fine layer of silk separating his chest from her flushed skin.

It was pure abandonment on both their parts. Fiona had never felt so good, had never felt so _right_ as when she was with Jarrod. Her body ached for him in a way she had never felt before, her nerves alive, sensitive to his every touch. Something cool and smooth hit her back.

Fiona didn't know how, but somehow he had manoeuvred them so that she was trapped between his body and the wall. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and he had thrust a thigh between her legs. His mouth had moved to her neck and she moaned something that vaguely resembled his name. But then he slid his hands under the straps holding up her nightgown, and Fiona panicked.

"Jarrod, wait!"

Jarrod stopped as if he had been doused with cold water. He wrenched himself away from her with difficulty, breathing hard.

"Jarrod?" Fiona called his name softly.

He looked up at her, standing there in her white silk nightgown, her lips swollen, her cheeks red from his whiskers, and, God help him, he wanted her again. Some of her hair had come out of its confinement to frame her face in wavy tendrils. It made her look like very sweet and innocent.

Mortification hit him like a punch in the groin. She _was_ innocent. And, like the cad he was, he was taking advantage of that innocence. He had promised to help her, to not have relations until _she_ was ready, and here he was seducing her at the first opportunity. Apparently, his fantasies were all too easy to make reality.

He opened his mouth, but she interrupted him, her brows drawn down in a frown. "If you apologise, I swear I will clock you one," she warned. She looked as though she meant it, too.

Laughter threatened to escape, but he managed to choke it back and keep his face calm. He wanted to do nothing but kiss that irritable look off her face. He loved her expressions.

The thought sent a shock wave through him. He couldn't fall in love with his wife. He had made himself a promise after Belinda never to lose his heart again. It was far too painful. If he ever became vulnerable to a woman again, he would have to be honest with her. And no one could love him after they learned the secret he kept guarded deep down inside. They would leave. Fiona would leave.

"Jarrod?" she asked again, sounding not nearly so sure as she did a moment before. "Please say something."

"I am glad that you were able to recover your senses in time," he said, in a voice that sounded cold even to his own ears. "It would have been most unfortunate for us if you hadn't."

Was it imagination, or did her face blanche at that? "We must be careful not to let it happen again." The words tasted like dirt in his mouth.

"Yes, of course," she said, averting her gaze.

"Are you still interested in that glass of water or milk?" he asked politely.

"No, I think I will just retire. Good night, Jarrod." She collected her wrapper off the floor and closed the door softly behind her. The soft thud seemed to bang in his heart loud and clear.

Jarrod swore, softly, but ferociously. She was dangerous. Tonight, Jarrod realised that he didn't just want Fiona's body. He wanted her heart and her soul. He wanted to wrap himself in her goodness and light and hope to God that it would heal a little of the blackness inside him.

The knowledge was terrifying, even more so than the knowledge that someone was trying to kill him.

He climbed under the covers of his monstrous bed, but didn't fall asleep for some time.


	21. Archery

This is my first update on the new system thingie, and it took me a little while to figure out. I'm sorry this is a day late, but I was gone all day yesterday. Better late than never, I guess.

**Sirenic Griffin (?): **Hey. I don't think your name came through, so I'm sorry if it's not you. Personal experiences? Well, that's... er... personal? Haha. No, I've never been that position, really. I remember world religion. I had to do Islam. Then we had to make up our own religion. I don't even remember what mine was called, but it had to do with the five elements, Fire, Water, Air, Earth, and Light, I think.

**fell4adeadguy:** Yeah. The assassin is bidingtheir time, plus Jarrod's taking some huge precautions, so it's been a little hard on the poor killer.

**Tiger Lily21:** Yeah, but as far as we know, Belinda is still on Tolaro, married to some mysterious figure. Intrigued yet? Yes, there are so many more unanswered questions, and I'm keeping them unanswered until later. It'll take a couple chapters before they are totally comfortable in their marriage, but they're stubborn people. They'll make it work. Innocent romance is totally cool! In some characters it just works, especially when they are younger characters. I love your stories so much! They always make me happy.

**littlelambug:** Oo, frizzly. How is Fiona acting annoying? Just out of curiousity, because I think that's almost a good thing that she's acting a little annoying. Makes her more human, eh?

**Phillipa of the Phoenix: **He will find out. Hopefully. Before they both collapse underneath all the weight of guilt and stuff.

**little miss tiny shoes:** I'm glad you like it! Jarrod is carrying far too much baggage.

**panemonium:** Tyrell loves his brother so much. He realises how much responsibility that Jarrod takes on himself, and tries hard to make sure Jarrod doesn't collapse under the strain. Of course he was trying to push her away. Otherwise, she wouldn't have left, and Jarrod may have done something that he regretted. He did the same thing when he was telling her he was leaving, remember? You're right about Fiona wanting to do stuff. She's not really the sit around and do nothing type of person. Thank you for the comments on the update thing! I love trying to make them up.

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** Heehee, you're welcome. I really enjoyed writing the chapter. Those portraits have appeared in every story of mine, so they obviously needed to be in this one. Plus, it set the mood for Fiona's contemplative entrance. Wee! Now if only they would confess how much they loved each other, that would solve a lot of problems.

**CalliopeMused:** Thank you! I'm glad you think my characters aren't cliché. I try to base them a little bit off of people I know in order to make them a bit more real, if you know what I mean.

**rootbeergirl19:** I don't know. I slept pretty much all that day, though, so I'm better now. :cD

**Areida Rivers:** I actually have a story that I'm think about getting published that I write a little bit on now and then. It's far from complete, but I've always wanted to write a book. They're so much fun. But thank you for that awesome compliment! I love Fiona so much. She's my soul-sister.

**Glitterpoison:** Ooh, I love the new name. It just gives me such a picture in my head of glittery poison ((rolls eyes at self)) but it's green for some reason. I don't know why. Oh well. Thanks for the review!

**Glaze:** Of course he has a secret! Well, it's not really a _secret_ secret, but it's something that he did in the past that has haunted him since. That's what makes him so sad all the time. Hmm... I'm not going to tell you if you're right. At least, not yet.

Thank you all for the marvellous reviews! This is kind of a poofy chapter (meaning which, nothing really happens, it's just set up for somethings that are happening later) so, I'm sorry. Next week, though, woo!

Lulai

Chapter Twenty-One: Archery

_Crash!_

"Oh, bugger it all!" a familiar female voice swore.

Fiona woke reluctantly, stretching. Her bed was extremely comfortable, and she wondered who was making such a racket this early in the morning. Perhaps if she just rolled over and snuggled back into the pillows, the noise would go away and she could sleep some more.

"Sorry, milady, or should I say yer majesty?" the voice continued. Fiona sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Elsie?" she asked groggily.

"In tha flesh," the girl said happily. She bent to pick a piece of bacon off the floor. "I'm sorry ta have woke ye, yer majesty, but I've been hauling yer stuff in all mornin', an' might I say, ye sleep like the dead, milady, but apparently sometime between when I hauled in yer dresses an' when I went ta get yer basket, someone brought in brunch. I've knocked most of it over, but we might be able to salvage some."

"Brunch?" Fiona said, groaning. "What time is it?"

"It's almost noon, milady."

"Noon?" Fiona's eyes shot open. "Good Lord, I've been in bed all morning? I was going to see my family off!"

"Ye had a late night, milady," Elsie said, pouring her a cup of chocolate out of the half-full kettle. "Yer family went on their ways right as rain. Nothin' too excitin' happened. It's not like Lady Bernadette dropped her baby right then an' there, although tha way her husban' was hovrin' aroun' her, you think that she might've."

"Regardless, you should have woken me," she admonished, before drinking half the cup. It was really very good. "I don't know when I'll see them again."

"My apologies, ma'am." She rustled about in her apron. "Here. This is fer ye." She handed Fiona a letter. She opened it.

_Dear Fiona,_ she read while sipping her chocolate, _I've heard that your getting married. Although I am very sad that you will not be visiting us anymore, I'd like to offer my felicitations (that's my word of the day!) to you and that nice man that you were with. I hope he treats you well. Love, Jamie._

Underneath, there was a more childish scrawl. _My mum told me your getting marryd. thats good. I hope you hav a baby girl. or a boy. if you hav a boy, you shoud name him Bently, after my bettle. Luv, Allie._

Fiona couldn't help the sigh that escaped her throat. At the rate they were going, an heir was very far in the future.

She had spent a lot of time lying awake, reliving the awful scene in Jarrod's bedroom. A scene made all the more awful by the sheer fact that it wasn't awful at all. It was thrilling, intoxicating, intense. So why had she stopped?

Her body certainly hadn't wanted to stop. It was ready and willing to go ahead and experience everything Jarrod had to offer. But then she had remembered the circumstances around their marriage and she'd panicked. He wanted an heir; _that_ was his main objective. And while she wasn't looking for a declaration of love, she wanted him to need her just as much as she needed him.

That was the true reason she had stopped. She had been scared. Scared of the need that had bubbled inside her. Because until that awareness hit her, it hadn't mattered that she was a virgin, or that they were going to make love on a wall, or that Jarrod was more feverish than gentle. She wanted him – any way he would give himself. And she had been self-reliant for so long, that when Jarrod had taken that self-control away, she froze.

And then he did. She could still remember the look on his face. Anger, disappointment, disgust, but whether it was directed at her or at himself, she didn't know.

And then he had put on that infuriatingly polite tone that made her feel like an utter fool. As if he were king, and she were just some annoying peasant that he was trying to get rid of. It always made her want to scream at him. She hadn't really wanted to stop, but her darn pride just wanted to know that she wasn't just a replacement for the one that got away!

She really needed to hit something.

"Elsie?" she asked suddenly, surprising the maid who was busy inspecting the flowers on her dresser.

"Aye?"

"Are _all_ my things here?"

Elsie nodded her head.

"Good." Fiona climbed out of bed, flinging open her closet. She picked out one of her simpler brown dresses.

"Let me, milady," Elsie said, assisting Fiona into her gown. Fiona walked over to where a long wooden case was leaning against the wall. She opened it and pulled out her long bow.

"If anyone asks where I am, I'll be at the archery range," she said.

She marched down the stairs in a purposeful manner until she realised she had no clue where the archery range was. She stopped the first maid she saw.

"Do you know where the archery range is?"

The maid looked down her nose at Fiona and replied, "An' why would _ye_ want ta know?"

Fiona realised that the woman didn't know who she was. With her brown dress and no sash or crown signifying her rank, she might just look like a lady's maid. She decided to go along with the part.

"His majesty wanted me ta return his bow there," she said, doing the best imitation of the commoners' accent that she could.

The woman was apparently satisfied. "Go down ta tha stables an' turn left," she said with a disdainful sniff. "Walk past tha barracks an' go in tha second door."

"Thank ye," Fiona said with a curtsy. She followed the woman's directions and found herself right in the middle of an apparent target practise.

"What do _ye_ want?" a rough voice asked.

"I'm here to shoot," she said in her loftiest tone.

"_Ye?_" the headmaster, a great burly man with a scar that ran from the corner of his nose to the bottom of his jaw, asked incredulously.

"Yes, I do," Fiona said calmly. "I've brought my own bow, and since technically, this is my range, I would like to shoot."

"Hear that lads? Tha li'l lady wants ta shoot!" The man threw back his head and laughed. "Well, any newcomer must face off against this here lad, Parkin. He's our best shot. Parkin!" the man bellowed.

"Fine," Fiona ground out. If she had to beat this fellow in a shooting match to be allowed to shoot in her archery range, then so be it.

She stepped up to the line, and eyed the targets. They were simple bulls-eyes painted on thin boards of wood that were hanging on bushels of hay. She had made similar ones at home.

"I'll let the gentleman proceed, if he would so desire," Fiona said graciously.

"Nay," Parkin replied. "Ladies first."

"Very well." Fiona stepped up to the line and pulled an arrow out of the quiver in the floor. She knocked and aimed, letting the arrow fly. It landed in the yellow centre with a satisfying 'thunk'.

She turned and smiled at Parkin. "Your turn."

Parkin also fired, and his arrow landed in the centre, right beside hers.

"Thank ye, milady," he said with an answering grin.

Fiona frowned. This was going to be harder than she thought.

…

She wasn't going to lose; she wasn't! Fiona blew a lock of hair off her face as she took aim for the umpteenth time. Her arms were starting to shake with the exertion, but she ignored it. Parkin and she were shot for shot. After it was established that they were decidedly equals (which took about ten shots), the men settled that they would shoot rounds, the best out of twenty, with each round moving the target farther back, until one beat the other. They were approaching the end of round three. She only had three shots left.

She fired, smiling in triumph as her arrow landed with deadly accuracy. The smile quickly turned to a frown as his arrow hit its mark as well.

She pulled out her next arrow and knocked it. She drew back, her fingers and arm burning in protest, and locked in. She fired. This one hit the very edge of the yellow circle. She sighed in relief, but almost groaned when Parkin shot dead centre.

She drew back, but her bow was vibrating so badly she couldn't even aim. She tried to steel her arm, but it was just too tired. She shot and hit the outer blue ring.

The men behind her let out sympathetic grunts. She lowered her bow so that the lower tip was on the ground and rested her hands on the top of it. Parkin shot his last arrow and it landed centre like all the rest.

Fiona blinked back tears. She didn't know why she felt like crying, but she didn't want the men to think badly of her. She wanted to accept the defeat graciously.

"Good shooting," she said quietly, admiring the way her voice didn't shake at all, as if it didn't phase her.

"Aye," the headmaster boomed, coming up to both of them. "That was a display of tha best archery I've seen in me years here. Ye're welcome ta shoot with us here lads any time ye want."

Fiona looked at him in disbelief. "But I lost!" she protested.

The man's eyes twinkled. "I didna say ye had ta _win_," he said with a smile, "I only said ye had ta _play_."

Fiona was struck speechless for a few seconds, but then laughed. "Then I will be happy to join you," she said. She made a face. "But first, I need to give my arm a rest."

Parkin laughed. "Me too. T'was a close race. Ye're an excellent shot. Where'd ye learn that?"

Fiona smiled. "My father at first, then I taught myself."

"The name's Hale," the headmaster said.

"I'm Fiona," she replied, sticking out her hand. He shook it firmly, engulfing her hand in his meaty paw.

"Fiona, I should put ye in charge o' these bunch o' scallywags," he said, motioning to a group of boys about thirteen or fourteen years of age who had been fetching the arrows from Fiona and Parkin's contest. "Teach 'em ta basics o' bow care. I would be eternally grateful. I hate havin' ta teach that lesson. I do it about ten times a year an' believe ye me, it gets almighty borin'."

"I would be happy to help out," Fiona said, beaming. She had a purpose here!

Jarrod marched up to the entrance of the archery range, unsure of quite what he was going to find. He had woken up in a foul mood, and after snarling at Robertson, fighting with his brother, and being in general an ill-mannered oaf, he decided to take a ride to cool off his temper.

He had taken an armed escort (he was angry, not suicidal) and ridden Thunderbolt into the fields behind Castle Fer Drewery until he felt a bit more like he could deal with the world. He had made his way back to the castle in a better mood, intent on having dinner with his new wife, and maybe starting to get to know her better.

He knocked on her door, holding a bouquet of flowers, feeling a little bit self-conscious. Her maid opened the door.

"Oh! Yer majesty!" she said with a curtsy. "I'm afraid milady ain't here right now, but she told me ta tell ye that she's out at tha archery range if ye came lookin'. She's been out there since she got up this mornin' which was more like this afternoon now that I think about it. Anyway, that's where she is. What lovely flowers! I'll take 'em from ye an' put 'em in a vase for her. She'll love them! Thank ye."

Jarrod handed over the flowers, feeling a little off-centre from the maid's talking, and was now making his way to his wife and whatever she was doing in the archery range.

"Now, stretch the loop over the top of the bow, gripping your bow tightly. The last thing we want is for it to go flying and take out an eye."

Jarrod entered the doorway and saw his wife instructing a horde of young boys on how to care for their weapons.

"No, no, Jameson, bring your string up to your bow, not the other way around," she instructed a young red haired lad. "That's better."

"Yer majesty?" Hale asked him quietly. Besides his brother and cousin, and now his wife, Hale was probably the closest person to Jarrod. Before the incident, back when Marcus was set to taking the throne, Jarrod had spent most of his time in the barracks, learning all the ways to defend his castle. His brother had always been the diplomatic one, and Jarrod wanted to make sure he had an aggressive side, even if it was in a brother.

"I'd like to speak to my wife, privately, if you wouldn't mind, Hale," Jarrod said.

"O' course," Hale said.

"Alright, ye lazy gits," he bellowed at the boys, "we're gonna go learn what type o' wood ta make arrows from ever ye're lost in tha woods. Let's go!"

The boys, excited for a trip into the woods, stood up eagerly. They emptied out beside Jarrod.

Fiona sat on a bench at the back of the little platform, polishing her bow. He picked up a bow from where one of the boys had dropped it and sat down beside her. They sat like that, in silence, for a while, before Jarrod opened his mouth. Fiona interrupted him.

"Are we going to pretend like last night never happened?" she asked quietly. "Because I don't know if I can."

Oh, dear, sweet, blunt Fiona! He let out a small chuckle. "I don't think that either of us are good enough actors for that."

She laughed along with him softly. "You're right. But it doesn't stop me from feeling foolish."

Jarrod toyed with the string on the bow so he wouldn't have to look at her. "Do you feel foolish because we went as far as we did, or because we stopped from going farther?" Why was he torturing himself like this?

"Both," she said, rubbing her forehead and laughing humourlessly. "I feel foolish for both, and I can't believe I'm telling you this. You always seem to make me talk too much."

Something swelled in his chest, making Jarrod feel almost giddy. "I feel foolish too," he confessed.

She turned to look at him, a confused look drawing a line between her brows. "You do?"

"Yes. There were a few things I could have done differently." Like location. Seducing her against his wall wasn't probably the most romantic thing he could have done. He should have probably toned down the intensity as well.

He took her hand in his. Her calluses were bright red and felt hot under his fingers. He pressed his lips to them lightly, and that pretty blush came to her cheeks. "I have not been with a woman in a while," –forever, it felt like some days– "and you're very beautiful and attractive. It was only natural that I lost my head a little around you."

"I'm not _that_ beautiful."

Jarrod gave her a half-smile. Did she have that little faith in her own appearance? "On the contrary, Fiona. You are that beautiful."

"Jarrod…"

"You're not allowed to say anything unless you're agreeing with me."

Fiona had to laugh at that. "Alright, I'll let that pass."

"But in the end," he continued seriously, "it is your choice. I promised you that."

"But it can't be forever," Fiona said with a trace of bitterness in her voice. "You need heirs."

"My needing heirs come second behind your being comfortable. I do not want you to rush things merely to fulfil my needs."

Fiona's mouth turned into a little surprised 'O'. He decided he liked surprising his wife. She had such interesting expressions.

"So why are you here?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I really needed to shoot something," she said, with a slightly embarrassed grin. "Why are you here?"

"I was going to invite you to have an informal dinner with me," Jarrod said, "after which, I was going to show you the library." He rubbed absently at his arm.

Fiona stood up, deciding that she was starving, ever since she skipped both breakfast and lunch (both of which were not her fault).

"I'd be delighted to have dinner with you Jarrod," she said as he also stood. He took her free arm, leaving the boy's bow on the bench. "But be prepared to be interrogated."

"On what?" Jarrod asked, inwardly nervous.

"The normal things that husband and wife should know about each other," Fiona said, waving her bow expressively. "Favourite colour, food, story, biggest fear, fondest memory, those sorts of things."

Jarrod nodded and smiled. "I can do that."


	22. Failure

Woot! Update _on time_! Didn't think it was possible, did you? Neither didI, but I had all Wednesday off, so I finished most of this chapter then. Anywho, on to the reviews!

**Tiger Lily21:** Actually, I was hoping that their dinners would be the one place of normalicy in their crazy hectic lives. So, perhaps later on, they will be interupted, but not this one.

**awaiting impatient person:** Well, we can't win _all_ the time. And I'm sure if they were having a contest on moving targets, Fiona would have whooped his butt. They're getting closer! Oh, the walls are getting cracks in them. Ooo.

**Areida Rivers:** Thank you very much. I'm always glad when my 'filler' chapters come out as a little bit more. In sad news, I heard that the guy who did the Tony the Tiger voice died the other day. He was like 91 or something. Wow.

**littlelambug:** Thanks! I've done my fair share of archery, and it is _super_ taxing on your arms. And it wasn't like Fiona was doing archery every day like Parkin was, so it made sense that he'd have a little bit more stamina than her. There are a lot of emotions in this chapter.

**fell4adeadguy:** ((shakes head)) They just don't get a break. Here's the dinner! They don't talk about everything, but I promise you will find out all of Jarrod's favourites at one point. :cD

**panemonium:** Oh, that killer is just waiting until the opportune moment. (Sorry. I sometimes slip into POTC quotage.) Yeah. Jarrod and Fiona usually takeeveryone's burdens on themselves, a habit that isn't always good, but they're pretty strong people.

**Glaze:** Ha! The sheep are way back at Castle Fer Havara. I'm not going to say who the assassin is until the very last moment, so nyah. They're having less and less problems, which is nice.

**livingdead2010:** :cD

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** Well, at first, it was basically going to be like the TDP because they were going out in secret and doing stuff, and Jarrod was going to follow them and fall in love with Fiona that way, but (like most of my stories) Jarrod and Fiona took lives of their own and I couldn't just leave it at that. So, you're right, this part right now isn't strictly TDP, but I hope you'll like it all the same.

**rootbeergirl19:** Yay for fluff! It's gooey marshmellowy goodness, that's for sure.

**Akwyn:** Hmm... You know, I don't know. I have a sort of 'plot-optional' story here, don't I? I think, it's mostly about Jarrod and Fiona resolving their differences, and trying to find out who's trying to kill them. I often have several plot lines going through my story.

**CalliopeMused:** Thank you! I think there is a lot to be said for making a relationship work. I didn't really want this to be a complete cliché story, so I am trying to make their love come semi-naturally.

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** Of course, she won't ask him what she really wants to know, but that's okay. She will eventually. She's just trying to find her place as Queen. Jarrod's a bit slow on the uptake, and isn't really used to having anyone to help him (besides his brother and cousin, that is) They'll probably find some sort of compromise.

**fireworksinmybackpocket:** Thank you! XcD I'm glad you like the story.

**Glitterpoison:** Yeah. And then she gets to teach stuff. She's a good person.

**letylyf:** Thank you for the awesome review. I like to think that this is one of the best stories I've written. It's less 'magical' than the other ones, but I still love it. I think that a character always has to have at least one flaw, else they become very boring, and hard to build a plot around. I try not to have them win all the time because I think a person's true character comes out when they lose and/or are in a difficult time. I'm so glad that you are enjoying my writing. I feel I've come a long way since my first story, and to have someone else confirm it makes me feel great inside. Thank you again!

Okay guys, one more character development chapter, then it's back to the plot! Promise! ((crosses fingers, just in case))

Lulai

Chapter Twenty-Two: Failure

"Let's get down to business," Fiona said after eating a couple bites of carrots.

Jarrod raised an eyebrow at her. "Business?"

"I told you, I was going to interrogate you," she said before pouring gravy over her roast beef and potatoes. It was just the two of them (Warren and Tyrell had already eaten) so they opted to have dinner in the breakfast room, which had a smaller table and more windows.

"Oh, right," Jarrod said, quirking his half-smile. "Alright then, shoot."

"What's your favourite food?"

"Hmm…" Jarrod used his time to think to eat some more roast beef. "I would have to say that lost toast would be my favourite."

"Lost toast?" Fiona inquired, giving him a quizzical glance.

"You've never eaten lost toast?" Jarrod replied, shocked. He flashed her a grin. "I'll have Cook make you some tomorrow." He speared some green beans into his mouth, then asked, "And you? What's your favourite food?"

Fiona's brow lowered in thought. "That's difficult. I love so many foods. I don't like fish, however."

Jarrod nodded. "I'm not overly fond of fish either."

They smiled at each other, happy to have found something they had in common.

"What's your favourite colour?" Fiona asked.

"Why, I believe it's the exact colour of your eyes," he said in a teasing manner.

"Flatterer," she laughed. "But really…"

"Navy blue," Jarrod replied. "And I already know your favourite colour."

"Oh?"

Jarrod nodded. "Lilac. Not purple, lilac."

Fiona had suspected as much, but just the fact that he knew such a trivial thing about her warmed her right down to her toes. She smiled her lopsided smile at him broadly.

Things fell into a sort of routine after that. Fiona would either sew or teach archery while Jarrod took care of the affairs of state. Then they would have dinner together, usually alone, in the breakfast room. Tyrell and Warren would join them occasionally, but they tended to leave the couple in peace.

Things became so calm that Fiona, in truth, was getting rather bored. She wanted to _do_ something besides sew and shoot and eat dinner. She had always though herself content to do the same things day in and day out, but the truth was ever since Jarrod came into her life, she had been anything but bored. Now that she was going back to her simple repetitive day, it seemed completely dull. It seemed even the attempts on her life had stopped.

"Who ever came up with the bandit idea?" Jarrod asked her one night over their apple crumble dessert.

"I guess, in a way, I did," Fiona responded. Jarrod's gaze met hers in surprise.

"Oh?"

She smiled a little nostalgically. "I was so angry at Uncle Edward because he had just taken almost a years worth of grain away from Alexis and Jamie. I mean, Allie was just a little baby! He should have been _giving_ them food! I take it back; I wasn't angry, I was furious! So that night, I stole what the grain was worth in gold and the next day, gave it back to them in the pretence of giving Allie a knitted jumper."

He almost felt a sense of pride for what she had done. It was like Fiona to stand up to her uncle. He just wished she hadn't have done it in such an underhanded way.

"How did everyone else get involved?"

"Genevieve caught me sneaking out one night. After I explain that I had been behind the thefts, and why, they started helping me."

She smiled softly, remembering. "After my father realised that he didn't have any sons, he made sure that we could defend ourselves. He started us learning on a variety of weapons, and we got to choose which one suited us the best. Luckily, although we never had to defend our home from invaders, it proved useful in overcoming the guards sent by the… er," She looked at Jarrod guiltily.

Jarrod raised an eyebrow.

"We never killed anyone," she rushed to defend herself. "Merely, incapacitated them. And it was for a good cause." As she said this, a wave of longing swept over her.

She missed being a bandit. She missed _helping_ people. She was feeling rather useless as a queen, and wished that Jarrod would give her something to do.

A revelation hit her. Why the heck couldn't she help people? She wouldn't be able to steal for them, but there was no reason why she couldn't go out and talk to the people in the city like she did in her town.

Fiona beamed, having a new hope for the next day.

…

She should have known that it wouldn't work.

Fiona sat under a tree, staring blindly out into the horizon, trying desperately not to remember what had happened that day.

Oh, it had started off well enough, for sure. She had dressed up semi-regally in one of her best dresses, a lilac concoction that she had made one year out of one of Bernadette's old dresses (it was one of those dresses that made her feel powerful), and she took Elsie and Parkin. She didn't tell Jarrod where she was going; she wanted him to be proud of her initiative, and, yes, she wanted to impress him with her people skills. She knew that he wouldn't be impressed if she didn't take any protection, and she figured anyone who could best her at archery was more than adequate.

She decided to start at the houses farthest down from the castle. From her observations of the city, they would be the poorest, and thus in need of the most help. It took them a little while to walk all the way down to the last house, but Fiona was determined.

She knocked on the door. It swung open on crooked hinges and a heavyset woman stood in the doorway. She might have been pretty, but there was a pinch to her face and her eyes glowered with unveiled animosity.

"Aye? Whatta ye want?" she asked.

Fiona swept a curtsy. "I merely wished to introduce myself. I am Queen Fiona Par Drewery, and would like you to know that I am available to help with your problems."

"Problems?" The woman laughed cruelly. "Listen, _yer majesty_-" the words dripped with sarcasm- "I have more problems than I can shake a stick at. An' I donna think ye comin' down here an' pesterin' me about it will help at all. Shove off." With this, she slammed the door right in Fiona's shocked face.

A little discouraged, Fiona nevertheless put her smile back on and went to the next house. A withered old man whose eyes were nearly hidden by white eyebrows answered. Fiona didn't even get through her initial speech before his door cut her off.

"-to help… Bugger it all!" she exclaimed. Her hands flew to her mouth, but Elsie and Parkin laughed long and hard. She glared at them.

"Oh, donna mind them," a middle-aged woman said, as she was entering her own house. "They're always that crotchety. I, fer one, am lookin' forward to yer play."

"Play?" Fiona asked, bewilderedly.

"Aye, tha play yer puttin' on."

"I'm not putting on any play," Fiona persisted.

"Ye're wearing pretty fancy clothes fer a jaunt down ta tha market."

"That's because I'm the queen."

The woman looked confused. "Tha queen wouldna step foot down here. She'd at least take a carriage."

Fiona sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I didn't think of taking a carriage. But I'm here anyway, and I want to let people know that I'm open to hear their problems."

The woman looked to Elsie. "Ye'd better get yer sister home. She seems a li'l touched in tha head."

"I'm not crazy!"

"Aye," Elsie said, stepping forward, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I'm sorry ta bother ye, but sometimes it's best ta let this kinda thing run it's course, else we'd never get her down for bed."

The woman nodded, and gave her a loaf of bread out of the basket she was carrying. "HERE," she said loudly and slowly, as if she were talking to a deaf person. "YE EAT THIS AN' BE A GOOD GAL."

Fiona gritted her teeth so hard she was afraid her jaw might snap, but took the bread.

"Take this," she hissed through clenched teeth, shoving the loaf into Elsie's arms, ignoring the laughter. She had a mind to sack her then and there. It's what came from having long-term servants; they felt as though they had a right to laugh at their mistresses. She could never be that cruel, though.

"What was that for?" she snapped at Elsie instead.

"What?"

"You could have stood up for me," Fiona said angrily. "Confirmed the fact that I really am Queen."

"She wouldna believed me any more than ye," Elsie explained. "I figured this way, we can stop tha conversation an' get to seein' more people."

She wanted to protest, but she realised the fruitlessness of it. "Fine," she announced. "I guess if they don't want me here, we shall go to the top and work our way down."

Elsie and Parkin nodded, and they set off back towards the castle. By the time they reached the first house, Fiona was sweaty and tired and more than a little irritated. She took a deep breath, straightened her hair, and knocked on the door.

"Announcing Queen Fiona Par Drewery," the butler announced to two ladies sitting, enjoying refreshments in their salon. They stood at her entrance.

"Your majesty," the younger one said as they curtsied. "You honour us with your presence."

"Thank you," Fiona said as the three ladies sat down. The elder, the Dowager Duchess of Grenalda, sat with an extremely similar expression to the first woman that Fiona had visited. Her daughter, Rachel, was a younger replica of the elder woman, right down to the peevish expression on her face. Fiona was no expert on fashion, but even she could see that the colour of Rachel's dress (which reminded her of nothing so much as pea soup) clashed with her complexion horribly.

The two women were pleasant enough. They made small talk, and Fiona tried, and failed, to recall whom Rachel's husband was. After several minutes, Fiona asked if she might take a second to freshen up. She was still feeling a little sticky from her walk in the sun.

Rachel obliged graciously and rang for a butler. Fiona ended up in a lavish bathroom, with more gold and turquoise than she thought was tasteful. She wiped her brow and tucked the two errant locks of hair behind her ears, having lost her clips somewhere along the road, and smoothed the front of her dress.

Feeling better, she made her way back to the rooms unannounced.

"But she's so… so… rural!" the younger girl's voice rang out.

"Be that as it may, we must accept her. She is the queen."

"How did she ever get that position anyway? The king barely looked at anyone this season."

"I don't think it was her looks that caught his notice. Anyone with half an eye can see that her gowns are of the poorest quality." The mother and daughter shared conspiratorial giggles.

"She's no beauty, that's for sure." More sniggers followed this pronouncement.

"Is she some sort of high royalty?" the daughter wondered.

There was a sound of a teacup hitting a saucer. "No. She's the seventh daughter of some Earl off in the country. Without the king, she'd be no one special."

Fiona's eyes filled with tears.

"Your majesty?" the butler asked, catching up to her.

"Find my servants, please," she responded. "I would like to return home."

The butler nodded, and Fiona waited in the front hall until Elsie and Parkin arrived. She left without a word, and they followed her quietly.

"Thank you both for coming with me today," she said as soon as they entered the main hall. "You are dismissed for now."

They both bowed and left her.

Fiona was torn between wanting to keep her shame to herself, and wanting to spill it all out and cry on someone. She ended up walking down a path in a small neat wood until she didn't want to walk anymore.

And that's where Jarrod found her, sitting on a root, with her knees drawn up, and her chin resting on her arms that were folded on top.

He sat down beside her, not saying anything, just being there. He drew one knee up and rested his arm on it, his fingers dangling. They watched the sun start to make its way into the horizon, turning the clouds a brilliant fuchsia.

"I missed you at dinner today," Jarrod said quietly.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I didn't really feel up to company."

"It's okay," he said. He didn't mention how worried he had been when she hadn't shown up. How, if he hadn't run into Elsie who told him approximately where she was, he was about to get his men and turn the castle upside down to look for her. He felt sure his assailant had her. It took him several minutes after finding her to slow his heart back into its normal pace.

He glanced over at her and was shocked to see how empty her eyes were. They were dull and lifeless, as if all her energy had been used up, and she was simply a shell in the shape of his wife.

"Fiona?" he asked, touching her shoulder. Her eyebrows drew together, and she bit her lower lip, obviously trying not to cry. "Darling, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing. Just a stupid… nothing," she said, but a tear slipped down her cheek, belying her words.

He swore softly and drew her into his embrace. "Obviously not a stupid nothing," he said kindly, wiping a tear the tear from her face with the pad of his thumb. "Tell me what happened, Fiona."

So she did. Between great heaving sobs, she told him how she went down into the city and tried to befriend some people, but they wouldn't listen to her, and how she had visit the women and they had mocked her, and how she just felt so useless and so _lonely_.

"I was too rich for the poor and too poor for the rich," she said bitterly through her tears.

Jarrod berated himself fiercely inside his head. How could he have been so utterly pig-headed? He had been so sure that she was fine, that she would be able to save him, that he didn't think to take care of her at all. Was he so wrapped up in himself, that he couldn't see how unhappy his wife was?

He could now, he thought to himself with an ironic self-mocking tone. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt, feel her sobs shaking her whole frame in his arms. Her unhappiness was like a knife in the gut, twisting at his innards.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly. She looked up at him, her eyes big and shiny, tears gluing her eyelashes together in small clumps. He moved her onto his lap so she was looking down at him.

"For what?" she asked, sniffing.

"For not being the husband you deserve," he said morosely, touching his forehead to hers. A tear splashed onto his nose, another onto his chin. "For letting you face this alone, for making you feel useless."

She shook her head, a small movement, breaking her eye contact with him. "This is my fault. I'm just not good enough for you. You are the king, I'm nothing. A nobody from the country, who you only married to save from ruin. I can't believe why you would ever want someone like me." Her voice cracked on the last word.

How could she not see how much he needed her, how much his very existence depended on it? She was the light to his dark. If his people refused to see what he did, then his people were idiotic beyond belief.

His hands came up to grasp her face, his fingers locked into her hair to make her look into his eyes. A hairpin dug into his palm, but he ignored it. "You are not nothing," he said savagely. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Oh, Fiona. You just want to help people. People that don't deserve you. It's _me_ that's useless, that's nothing. _I_ don't deserve this… this… you…" his voice caught in his throat.

Her hands came up to cover his. "Jarrod… no… You're everything anyone could want. It's me. I'm the one who's lacking." Another tear slid off her face onto his.

God. The look in her eyes broke his heart. She looked so… lost. She wanted to believe in him, that he could want her, just as much as he wanted to believe that she could fix him.

"God, Fiona, if only you knew. We said that I would marry you to save you from ruin, but in truth, you are saving me." He brushed a thumb around her ear as her eyes widened. Should he tell her? _Could_ he tell her? "I was so lost before I met you. You are my salvation. You want to help everyone. Help me." The plea came from the depth of his soul. "Please."

"Oh, Jarrod," she whispered, more tears rolling down her face onto his.

She pulled her hands away, but kept her forehead touching his. She grasped his lapels and clutched tightly, her knuckles almost white. He moved his hands to her waist, pulling her closer, needing her with him.

She held onto him as if he were the last thing on the planet, and he held onto her just as tightly, terrified at how deeply she had touched him. And as another tear slid down his cheek, as it's salty coolness hit his lips, he didn't know whether the tear was hers.

Or his.


	23. Fire!

I have good news and bad news. Good news is... here's an update! Bad news is that this is going to be the last update for a little while as my choir and I are taking a trip to NEWFOUNDLAND! I'll be gone for two weeks, but I'll try and update as soon as I get back. Nyah! I'm so excited!

**Areida Rivers:** Aw, thank you. It's always sad when someone like that dies.

**Tiger Lily21:** Yay! Huggles for everyone! I always try to balance the plot and the character development scenes out evenly. But I still love your stories!

**livingdead2010: **Thanks!

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** They're getting there... slowly. You'd think that they'd just tell each other, but unfortunately, they are too much alike. Yes, Fiona will be able to help out her people. She just happened to find the most unsightly people out there.

**CalliopeMused:** I'm glad you think that my story isn't too cliché. I'm getting way better at the small details. It's very hard.

**PrincessofRain: **Thank you. :cD

**Glaze:** They shall be the kamakaze sheep of rescue! They shall built robot replicas of themselves and fill them with whipped cream and send them into the Grenalda residence, where they will explode, covering everything in FRAPPÉD DAIRY TOPPING! ((evil cackling!)) ((FLASH!)) ((THUNDER))

**Sirenic Griffin:** :c(

**awaiting impatient person:** Hee hee, osh-kabosh. I make up my own swear words too. Those people were meanies, but his entire town isn't like that. I've met guys like Jarrod, but, unfortunately, they're usually taken. ((tear, tear)) I was referring to the emotional walls of Jarrod and Fiona, and that they're getting closer. Sorry to have confuzzled you.

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** Thank you ((bows)). Oh, Fiona. She's a bit too naïve for her own good. I think their marriage has reached a turn-around point. From here on in, I think things can only get better. (Hopefully.)

**fell4adeadguy:** Poor, poor killer. So many wasted opportunities. I'm sure s/he'll pop up sooner or later. ((shifty eyes))

**panemonium:** Jarrod is hooked now. He just wants to make Fiona happy, the poor guy. Fiona doesn't really talk to any nobles, weirdly enough. The women don't usually come to court, and the men talk mostly with Jarrod. I'll try and get her to meet some nice ones later on.

**Dreamer at Heart:** It's strange, what people will think of. The thought just popped into my head. What if one of the commoners thought Fiona was crazy? That would sure be funny. My teeth almost rotted while writing that chapter, it was so sweet. I had to go huggle my pillow for a while.

**aureusangel:** Thank you! I'm glad you like the story.

**fireworksinmybackpocket:** Here! Use my handkerchief!Oh, no! We're loosing her!BRING CHAPTER 23! STAT!

**amelia:** Thanks. I love Jarrod. He's a good guy.

**rootbeergirl19:** Aw.I'm usually just really really cranky. Or super happy. It's weird. I hope you fell better now.

**Akwyn:** Oh theangst!(I love that word. It justsounds like what itis.aaangst.) You deserve a crown. And don't worry, the assassin istotally going tomake a reappearance.

**Drew:** Hey! I'm glad you could find it. Thanks for all the constructive critism. I've beenworking on my detail, but, obviously, it still isn't perfect. Hee hee. Iwas looking for names, and I just saw one of our programs and his name jumpedout at me. Then I was like, hey! his last name works too!

**rainkisser:** no problem! You've been busy, I gather.You're always welcome to just say hey! I'm glad you love it! I loved writing it so much. wee!

NEWFOUNDLAND (eastern Canada, for those of you who don't know) HERE I COME. WOOOH!

Lulai

Chapter Twenty-Three: Fire!

"Oh my God, Jarrod, what happened?" Tyrell asked as Jarrod climbed the stairs, Fiona lying in his arms. Tyrell rushed over, a horrified look starting to appear on his face.

"Nothing to worry about," Jarrod said. "She's just sleeping."

Tyrell gave a relieved laugh. "That's good. I was worried that _they_ had done something." Jarrod didn't have to ask who _they_ were. He shook his head.

"Thank you for being concerned," he said, shifting Fiona to a more comfortable position. "But I should probably get Fiona into bed."

"Of course," Tyrell agreed. "I'll see you later, then."

Jarrod continued on down the hallway, tightening his hold on his wife. She murmured something incoherent and threw an arm over his shoulder. He gritted his teeth as her fingers incidentally tickled the back of his neck. Her nose was pressed into the crook of his shoulder and she was breathing the shallow breaths of the exhausted.

Their conversation still felt like something out of a dream. He had told her more than he had told anyone else, and yet, he still hadn't told her anything. He had to keep it that way. He couldn't lose her. Even after she had fell asleep, still clutching his shirt, exhausted from crying, he didn't want to let her go.

As if sensing his thoughts, Fiona snuggled farther into his embrace. He found himself smiling at her dreamy expression.

"Yer Majesty! What happened?" Elsie exclaimed as he toed open Fiona's door to lay her down on the bed.

"Fiona was merely tired," Jarrod said, motioning for Elsie to pull back Fiona's covers with a nod of his head. Elsie did as he motioned and he laid her down on the bed. He removed her shoes with little difficulty, and then thought about how he was going to take off her gown. She did look terribly uncomfortable.

He undid the buttons down the front of her gown.

"Yer Majesty!" Elsie protested loudly.

Jarrod almost cursed. He had forgotten about the third party. "I am her husband," he said instead, raising an eyebrow at her. She blushed bright red. He sighed and motioned her over. "Help me get this off of her."

With the maid's help, he managed to strip Fiona out of the fluffy purple gown. She grumbled protests, but didn't wake up. He could have sworn he heard her maid mutter, "Like tha dead," but he wasn't sure.

They finally pulled the dress down her legs and off. He sucked in his breath, quietly so that Elsie wouldn't hear him, at the sight of Fiona lying in a simple cotton shift. She curled onto her side, her knees tucking in slightly, and gave a sigh of delight, her mouth slightly open and curved in a dreamy smile, making his heart slam painfully in his chest. He leaned down and tucked a bang behind her ear.

"Don't let anyone disturb her," he commanded Elsie as he left through the conjoining door. Elsie nodded.

…

Fiona stretched and yawned. She had no problems opening her eyes this morning; she was feeling more relaxed and rested than she had in a long time. She rang the little bell that was beside her bed. She waited a while, wondering what was taking Elsie so long. She had had a marvellous sleep in her comfy bed, which she didn't really remember getting into. She remembered crying all over Jarrod (or at least his face) and holding on to him, and then…

"Aye?" Elsie asked, poking her head in the room, looking a little sleepy.

Fiona scooted up in her bed so that she was sitting with her back on the headboard.

"Would you be able to get me some breakfast?" she asked. Elsie nodded and closed the door.

Fiona slid her hands up and down the blanket. Jarrod must have brought her to her room. She wondered if he had undressed her as well. A blush graced her cheeks, even though there wasn't anyone around to hear her thoughts. It was positively shameful. Not that he had undressed her – in fact, she probably wouldn't have slept half as well in her huge dress – but that the thought of Jarrod seeing her practically naked sent warm tingles all through her body.

_Get a hold of yourself, Fiona_, she demanded herself fiercely. She wasn't about to become his drooling, lovesick slave. No matter how tenderly he held her and soothed her tears. Or how scorching his kisses were.

Or how handsome his chest was.

She let out a frustrated breath. Who was she kidding? She wanted to be his drooling lovesick slave this very minute. How could she not? He was everything that she could have hoped for in a husband. Kind, sweet, generous, with a sense of humour that made him absolutely stunning, even if it was usually at her expense. The man held more secrets than the bottom of the ocean, but he was starting to open up to her. That was a good sign.

And he had asked for her help! She wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but she would do all that was in her power to honour his request. She chewed on a thumbnail, thinking. If she could just find out what was in his past that kept him so locked there…

"Milady?" Elsie asked.

"Oh, bring that over here," Fiona said, the smell of bacon making her stomach rumble loudly. Elsie balanced the silver tray precariously over Fiona's legs, and Fiona dug in. She tried desperately not to inhale the food, but she was ravenous.

"Slow down, milady," Elsie laughed.

Fiona, embarrassed at being caught eating so fast, took a sip of orange juice. "I was hungr-hic!" The drink nearly went up her nose.

Elsie laughed again. "I warned ye, milady."

"Yes, well," she muttered. "Help me –hic!– dress, please."

Elsie, still giggling, took the tray away from her and placed it on the dresser. Fiona swung her legs out of bed and stood, deciding what to wear for the day. She thought about getting some new dresses; at least get some started by Madam Lily, even if she had to finish them.

She pulled out a mint green dress with white lace trimming. Elsie helped her into the dress, and she sat down in her mirror to brush her hair. It was kinked and slightly curly from being in the bun, but she brushed out most of the tangles and put it back up again.

"I'm going to head to the ar–hic!–chery range," she said, slightly wistfully. She did really wish that her plan yesterday had worked, but, perhaps, it was for the best. There was more than one way to make her mark on her kingdom.

She strode purposefully out into the hallway.

"Fiona! Just the wife I wanted to see," Jarrod said in his quiet manner, a corner of his mouth tucking up.

"You mean you have more than –hic!– one?" She realised she ruined the haughty attitude she was trying to achieve with the hiccup, but covered it with a frown.

The other corner of his mouth came up into a smile. "But you're my favourite."

She laughed. She couldn't help it. He always seemed to do that to her, tease her out of her bad mood.

"Why did you –hic!– want to see me?" she asked.

He took her arm, linking her fingers in his and running his lips over her knuckles. She felt a jolt go up her arm, and decided she liked his little kisses. It made her feel close to him.

"I wanted you to look at something." He kept their hands firmly locked together, and tucked her arm into his.

They walked in a comfortable silence (broken only by the occasional hiccup from Fiona), something that Fiona didn't think they could have, after all the tension they'd shared. They entered his study, which Fiona recognised as one of his favourite rooms.

"Look at this," he said, walking her over to his desk where a large sheet of parchment lay there. She let go of his hand to pick it up.

Jarrod watched her eyes flick back and forth as she read what he had written and re-written at least a dozen times the night before. She didn't say anything, and Jarrod realised that he was holding his breath. Was it possible for one's heart and stomach to switch places?

She finally looked up from it, her eyes shining. He felt his lips stretch into grin.

"Do you like it?"

"Do I like it?" she repeated. "I –hic– love it!" She set the paper down carefully, lying her hands on it reverently, as if she almost couldn't believe it was written. She looked up at him again, biting her lower lip, her eyes so filled with joy that it looked as though she was going to burst.

She leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck, smothering his face with kisses.

"You are truly –hic– the _best_ husband ever!" she said, laughing and kissing his jaw. Even the hiccup in the middle didn't ruin the sentiment. "I can't believe you did this for me. Hic! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"I'm glad you like it," he said, putting his arms around her waist to hold her up along him.

She dropped back down flat on her feet, and walked over to run her fingers over the parchment.

"To allow the Que –hic!– een and King to hear all matters," she murmured, tracing her fingers over the paper, "no matter how seeming small or insignificant, at a designated time."

"I will have Tyrell copy this and send missives out to the town. You were only able to talk to five people. Now, everyone in the city will know, and they will believe you."

"You don't know how happy this –hic!– makes me," she said.

"I can venture a guess."

She laughed again, not a small tittering like Belinda, but a happy booming sound that made him feel like laughing along with her.

"I'm sure you could. Hic! Oh, Jarrod." She made a face. "I want to stay here and thank you properly, but I really should get going to the archery range."

It was on the tip of his tongue to invite her to stay and thank him 'improperly,' but she flew to him, kissed him on the cheek, and blew out of the room, a whirlwind of happiness and gaiety.

It was a strange feeling. He had never before wanted to make a woman happy just for the sake of seeing her that way. But he had never met Fiona before. Her joy was like the sun, warming everything around her until he wanted to give her the world so she would never be sad again.

…

"Keep your bows straight. Look down the arrow to where your target is." Fiona paced behind the boys, her hands clasped behind her back. "It may take some time before you find your specific lead, but as a general rule, aim a little higher than what you want to shoot. Alright… Fire!"

There was a series of loud 'twangs' as all the boys let their arrows loose. A few hit the actual targets, but many flew over and under the hay bales.

Fiona didn't care, though. She was happier than she could ever remember being. "Great job, Porter! Aim a little higher next time, Jameson. Alright boys, go retrieve your arrows."

As the boys rushed out into the field, laughing and jostling each other, Fiona began gathering up the bows.

"We be done then, yer majesty?" Porter asked as he carefully placed his arrows tip down in the floor quiver. He was one of those boys that although he still retained a bit of his childhood roundness, one could see that he would fill out with age.

"Yes, boys. Great job today. Don't worry about cleanup, I'll do it. Go get yourselves some dinner."

With a great cry of appreciation, the boys leapt down off the platform and headed towards the castle. Fiona smiled and shook her head, hanging up the bows in the shed. She had just finished gathering the arrows and was walking into the small building when the door hit her back, sending her sprawling forward onto the dirt floor, skinning the palms of her hands.

"Bugger!" she swore, shaking her hands, hoping the wind would cool the sting. After the initial burn wore off, she stood up and dusted off her skirt. A small sigh escaped her mouth as she fingered several small holes where her knees were. Another dress for the sewing basket. She really should look into getting some new ones. She began to gather the arrows where they lay scattered like discarded flowers.

A smell of smoke drifted towards her nose, making her wonder what was for dinner. Roast maybe? She dropped the arrows in their box and made sure to lock it tightly. If they were having roast, they'd also be having gravy, and the cook's gravy was simply divine. She didn't know what Cook did to make it so good, but she didn't really care.

She pushed the door to get out of the shed, but it stuck. She pushed harder, but the flats didn't budge. She put her hands on her hips, thinking one of the boys was playing a trick on her.

"Alright, boys, very funny. Now let me out of here." No one answered, but Fiona felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. The wind through the boards sounded eerily like laughter, low pitched and evil.

"Come on, boys," she said, a worried edge to her voice. The smell of smoke was stronger. Sweat began to drip down the back of her neck, the small hut becoming quite uncomfortably warm. But it wasn't until she saw the orange flickering on the back wall that she realised the danger.

She did panic then. She pounded with her fists on the door, shouting Jarrod's name, although she knew that he wouldn't be able to hear her. The smoke got in her eyes causing tears to stream down her cheeks. She began to cough uncontrollably, and sunk down to the floor, where the air was still a little fresh. The earthen ground felt wonderfully cool against her skin.

She refused to believe that she was going to die. Jarrod would get to her. She had complete faith in him. She still needed to save him; he still needed to say that he loved her.

Just where in bloody hell was he?

Fiona was suddenly furious. When he got there, she would give him a good lecture on the merits of being prompt.

The burst of anger drained her remaining strength. She gave the door another feeble hit with her fist, hoping beyond hope that someone came in time.

Jarrod was striding from his office on the way to the breakfast room. It had all been arranged. Tomorrow, the announcement would be made, and Fiona's dream would be true. He couldn't wait to tell her.

A blur of red hair shot past him. He recognised the boy as one of Fiona's students.

"You, um, Jameson!" The boy slid to a stop.

"Aye, yer majesty?" he asked with a bow.

"Is my wife done with the lessons today?"

The red headed youth nodded eagerly. "She's just over there, cleanin' up. Hey, I wonder what that is?" The boy pointed in the general direction of the archery range. A small tendril of smoke wafted up into the darkening blue sky.

Jarrod's heart sank. He began to walk towards the archery, which soon turned into a jog, which then turned into a dead run.

"Jarrod!" Tyrell called, seeing his brother streak past him and out the front doors. "What is it?"

"Something's on fire at the archery range," Jarrod shouted back. Tyrell ran along behind him, shouting orders at servants to bring water.

As soon as he saw the little archery shed, with the flames licking at its roof, his heart nearly stopped. He knew, he _knew_, that Fiona was in there.

_Ohgodohgodohgodohgodpleaseletherbealrightpleasepleaseplease…_

His legs felt as though they were made of lead. They couldn't seem to move nearly as fast as he wanted, even though the ground underneath him streamed past. His breath was whistling in his ears. He couldn't loose her, especially not like this. He couldn't loose anyone else to the fire.

He saw the wood propped up against the door and a red haze filled his sight. He kicked the plank aside and ripped the door practically off its hinges, terror giving him added strength. When he saw Fiona, lying on the floor in a ball, he nearly roared in fury. He picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the building, just before the roof caved in.

He knelt outside on the grass, refusing to breathe until he was certain that she was as well. Her wracking coughs should have been evidence enough, but his brain was too clouded with worry and fear to be logical.

"For God's sake, give her some room to breathe," Tyrell said, kneeling down beside his brother. His face was ashen, but no where near Jarrod's colour. They were both having flashbacks to the fire that claimed their family.

Fiona managed to open her eyes, although they were still stinging a little from the smoke. Jarrod's worried face hovered above her vision, but his expression softened when she gave him a weak smile. She managed to lift her hand and brushed some soot from his forehead. He swept a bang behind her ear at the same moment.

"I wasn't afraid," she whispered, her voice sounding gruff.

"Why not?" His voice was also rough and gravelly.

"Because I knew you'd save me. You always save me."

They shared a smile.

"Are you really okay?" he asked, concern marring his features. She smoothed out his brow with a couple fingertips.

"Nothing a good hot bath wouldn't fix."

He stood and helped her to her feet as well, holding her up until her legs steady underneath her.

"She's going to be alright," he said, mostly to Tyrell, but also to the gathering crowd of servants and onlookers around. Fiona managed to give a weak smile and a small wave. The servants, still murmuring to each other, went on their ways.

She frowned.

"What is it?" he asked.

She sighed and motioned to the blackened husk of a shed. "We're going to have to rebuild that. I can't run archery lessons with no archery equipment."

He laughed. Fiona turned to look at him, surprised, but then she laughed too. He reached down to take her hand, but she flinched and pulled away.

She saw the hurt in his eyes, and realised how her actions might look. "It's not that, Jarrod," she explained, holding out her hands. "It's just that when the door hit me, I ended up skinning my hands."

Jarrod took her fingers carefully, examining the small cuts and burns from the rocky floor. He pressed his lips to her right palm lightly.

"We'll get these bandaged. I'm sure we have some herb that we could use to help heal these."

"After my bath and a meal," Fiona said. "And look at this! I ripped my dress. And not in an easily repaired place, either."

"We'll get you a new one," he promised. "In that colour. It looks very fetching on you."

She blushed prettily and smiled at the praise. Other than the soot all over her face, and the scrapes on her hands, she didn't look like someone who had just been through a fire. She put her arm through his shyly. He smiled at her, and they walked back to the castle together.

Jarrod turned his face to the horizon. This time, the assassins had gone too far. This wasn't any attempt on his life. It was an out and out attack on Fiona.

He was going to kill whoever even thought to lay a hand on her. He swore it.


	24. The Bath

Weee! I'm back from Newfoundland, and boy am I glad to be home. I mean, travelling is nice and all, but we were getting such little sleep, we were pretty much at each other's throats by the end. And I missed my sweet computer (myyyyy preciousssss, as I like to refer to it) and Jarrod and Fiona. I apologise, but this chapter is really mainly fluff, to make up for a complete lack of fluff for the past two weeks.

**livingdead2010:** I love Canada! (And I do live there, just waaaay on the other side)

**Tiger Lily21:** Yes, the assassin is back and in a meaner mood than ever. Your scarf sounds really pretty! We met some women from Argentina, and they had, pretty much, the prettiest clothes I've seen.

**PrincessofRain:** Yeah. Fire hurts. Bad. I'm just kidding ya. Thanks. :cD

**awaiting impatient person:** You're not the only one falling for Jarrod. And if you think he's sexy in the last chapter... ((wiggles brows suggestively)) Actually, in a way, Fiona has saved his life. Twice, in fact. Once when she ate the pudding meant for him, and then again when she shot the guy who was going to kill him in the woods. They have a sort of symbiotic relationship. Unfortunately, the killer thinksFiona weaker, so more of the life attempts will be made on her.

**dreamingdaemon:** Haha, yeah. It was kind of a last minute title. I was like... 'What in the world could I name this, now that I've written three chapters and want to post them?' I love how you did the little heart thing, that's awesome!

**cokefizz-and-chocolate:** Your name is possible my two favourite-est foods in the entire world. Well, maybe actual coke, not just the fizz, but still! Thank you for all the cookies! ((hoards them))

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** Nope. It's going to be one dramatic rescue after another, after another, after some lovin', after another... Oh em gee, Fiona's got the hotts for him real bad-like. Except, she's a big chicken. And, by god! Jarrod's the most patient guy I know!

**rootbeergirl19:** Ah! Not with skewers! Anything but skewers! I know! It's so weird! It make my mom and my sister total angry witches with a capital B, but it makes me really really giddy. :c/

**Glitterpoison:** Oh, there would be too much! It's weird. Half of my choir keeps journals. I didn't but I took a lot of pictures. There's so much pretty architecture in St John's! there were some phenomenal choirs there as well, from all over the world, and we sang pretty much the best mass piece ever! I had a blast!

**fell4adeadguy:** I'm sure that Jarrod would agree with you fully.

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** Yikes indeed. It's not really a secret. His family was killed in a fire. That's why he didn't want anyone else to die by fire.

**cinnimon:** juicy.

**Glaze:** You know what? I'll try and bring back the sheep in one of the chapters, just for you! I love whipping cream, especially when it's sweet and good. And on strawberries. Thanks for all the complements, and you work on that plot.

**CalliopeMused:** That's what I think too. I hope the romance is progressing alright. I haven't had a grand mutiny ('just get together already!') but there does seem to be a little disatisfaction in the ranks.

**LadyBriseis:** First of all, thank you for all your kind words! I try to make a mixture of easily solved problems and harder problems for variety. Hmm... it's hard to explain, basically because it comes fairly naturally to me, but I would suggest you thinking through your characters, making sure they have strengths and flaws (flaws are almost more important than strengths) and that they have a past beyond that of your story, something that gives them drive to what they do. For example: Suzy Beth was accidentally locked in a chest while playing hide-and-seek at age six, and is now claustrophobic. After that, I usually if not write, at least think through a rough timeline (I want this to happen, then that, etc) and make sure that not everything happens in one day (unless that's part of your story). I've read too many fictions where they're like 'They went here, then travelled here, then met this guy' and I'm thinking, 'They've got to _sleep_ sometime!' After that, I think it's all just trial and error, writing and editing. The chapter I put up is very rarely exactly what I've written. I add things, I change things; in fact, I changed something right before I put this up. There was a sentence where the flow wasn't right... well anyway, now that you've got me going, I've started to blather on. I think you have an excellent grasp on English (from what I can see) and I look forward to seeing your first story!

**iridescent mists:** Thank you! I'm glad you like my stories, they're just such a blast to write, and putting them on here is such a learning experience! I feel like I've come such a long way since BatW.Don't worry, you'll get no blame from this department for skipping studying. You are talking to the'Queen of Cram' here. This story is three generations after Danni and Aiden.

**letylyf:** Just before I respond to your review, I'd just like to say, I love your name! It _looks_ pretty. I know I probably just classified myself as weird, but anywho... Thank you for the compliments. I like to thinkthat my writing's improved, but it's more like my editing'simproved as well. Fiona has a little habit of putting her foot firmly in her mouth, especially around people she likes, but she's tenacious almost to a fault. If anyone is going to dreg up Jarrod's past, it'll be her.

**little miss tiny shoes:** Ah. Work. I love my work, even though it's slightly tedious and I'm on my feet all day.

**mistyqueen:** Thank you! Ilove to hear that people enjoy my twists (and what I think are twists, other people agree)

**Arieda Rivers:** Jarrod is a kershmexie beast. Thatis probably the best compliment I can receive! You can bet that if I do publish a book, you guys will all be in it. I've always wanted to go to Chicago! I hope your trip was as fun as mine!

**virgo-valentina:** Thanks. :c)

**trillian225:** I can't believe you read through all my stories! That is so cool! 4:30? I didn't know time existed then. I'm usually dead by about 2:00. As a side story, while in Newfoundland, my friend and I went into a jewelery shop, and there, sitting in one of the display cases, was the exact (practically!) ring that I had imagined in my mind! I really wanted to buy it, but it was a $100 I didn't really want to spend.

Fluff and... er... nakedness! Woooooo!

-Lulai

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Bath

"Thank you all," Fiona said to the servants that finished filling the large tub with warm water. Jarrod was standing beside her, his arm around her waist possessively. She probably should have scolded him for treating her like his property, but in truth, his strength made her feel safe.

He probably wasn't making the servants feel any better, though. His countenance was blacker than an ink well, and he seemed to like to glare at anyone who even talked to her, especially if they were male. She frowned at him, and he merely raised an eyebrow at her and held her closer to his side. She sighed. There was no getting through his stubbornness.

"It wasna no problem, yer majesty," one of maids, Vera? said, drawing Fiona's attention back to her bath. "We'll heat some more, just in case ye want another one after ye get all that soot off."

The servants all left except for Elsie. Fiona cleared her throat, looking to the bath, and then back to Jarrod pointedly.

A flicker of amusement shone in Jarrod's dark eyes, sending a shot of heat to pool low in Fiona's abdomen. That just caused her frown to deepen. She was just in a fire for goodness' sake! Yet her body betrayed her at the slightest provocation from her husband.

The man was just too appealing for his own good.

"If you'll excuse me," Fiona said, irritation clipping her words, "I'd like to bathe."

"Go ahead," Jarrod said, motioning to the tub.

Fiona scowled and pulled away from him to give him a good glare. "I may have been careless enough to let the wind and the door to push me over, but I'm not so clumsy as to fall in my own tub. I can bathe on my own."

Jarrod gave her a look that she couldn't read, but then he nodded. "Alright then." He paused to give a kiss to her frowning brow, then left.

Fiona sighed and started to strip out of her gown. It was hard with the bandages on her hands.

Jarrod had been quite insistent on that. He had brought her back to her room where she sat on her lilac coloured bed while his doctor, a quiet frank man by the name of Dr. Broughten, examined her hands. She had to refrain from swearing (although her swearing was probably pretty mild in comparison to Jarrod's) as Broughten picked all the little rocks out of her palms. He put a soothing balm over her scrapes and wrapped them in crisp white bandages.

She had to admit she felt a perverse sort of justice when Broughten made Jarrod sit so that he could pull out his stitches 'just while he was there.' Jarrod's lips pressed together until they were a white line, but he didn't say anything either.

"Did you do these?" Broughten had asked her as she lay a bandaged hand on Jarrod's tense shoulder. He was stoutly looking away from where Broughten was leaning over his arm.

"Yes," she said.

"I'm glad. The gash wouldn't have healed nearly as nice without them." Fiona beamed. She could at least do one thing right.

"Let me help ye," Elsie said, noting Fiona's fumbling with her buttons.

She sighed. "Thank you, Elsie." With her maid's help, she managed to strip down out of her dress and white shift. She managed to get her own shoes and stockings off with her thumbs, to retain at least a little bit of her dignity.

She stepped into the tub, careful not to burn herself in the still-hot water. It was hard to sit down without getting her bandages wet, but somehow she managed it.

The bath was very soothing. The warmth of the water seemed to relax muscles that she didn't even know were tense. Elsie undid Fiona's bun and let her hair stream down her back.

Fiona dunked her head underwater, keeping her hands on the edge of the tub. Elsie poured some sort of soap into her hair and kneaded her scalp.

"That feels really good," she said, closing her eyes. She let the water carry away her worries and the memory of being trapped in the fire.

Fiona rinsed out her hair (or rather, let Elsie rinse out her hair) and put it back up into a messy knot on the top of her head. She didn't like the feeling of damp hair on her face, so she decided to just keep it out of the way instead of dealing with it.

"Elsie," Fiona said, as her maid was busy picking up her sooty garments, "would you mind getting me a cup of chocolate and some of that 'lost toast'? Jarrod wanted me to bathe before I ate, but I'm dreadfully hungry."

"O' course, milady," Elsie said happily. She put all Fiona's dirty clothes into a basket, which she then rested on her hip. She left to get Fiona's food, closing the door behind her.

Fiona lay in the bath, completely content. It was silly of her to have become trapped in the archery range shed. She'll have to be more careful in the future.

She didn't know how long she lay there, eyes closed, but she heard a knock on the door.

"Come on in," she said, not opening her eyes. She heard the door open and close. "Just put it on that table over there."

"Put what there?" a familiar deep voice asked.

After Fiona had told him that she could bathe on her own, Jarrod had stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He noticed a familiar face standing not too far away, and he called him over.

"You, Parkin."

"Aye, yer majesty?" the man said with a bow.

"Can you use a sword?"

"Aye, yer majesty," he answered.

"Good." Jarrod placed the man in front of Fiona's door. "Stand here, and don't let anyone besides me and Elsie into my wife's room. Got it?"

"Aye, yer majesty."

Jarrod stalked down the hallway. Tyrell fell in step beside him after a few short minutes.

"Talk to me, Tyrell," Jarrod said, not slowing pace.

"No one saw anything," he replied. "But it's not like anyone ever does."

Jarrod scowled. "Someone did that deliberately. I feel like I'm no longer the target. Perhaps I never was."

"Does Fiona know?" The brothers entered Jarrod's study. Jarrod stood, looking out the window, while Tyrell sprawled in one of the large wooden chairs.

"No," Jarrod replied, shaking his head. "She thinks the whole thing was an accident."

"But it wasn't an accident. There was a board holding the door closed."

"I know; I was the one who kicked it away," Jarrod said darkly.

Tyrell nodded and sat forward, pressing his fingertips together. "This is serious. We're going to have to guard both of you."

"I don't need to be guarded," Jarrod protested, moving forward to lean a hip against his desk. "We should concentrate on protecting Fiona."

Tyrell gave his brother a strange half-smile. "We're going to protect both of you. I'm sure Fiona would probably be just as angry if something happened to you as you would be if something happen to her."

He knew it was irrational, but the thought of Fiona caring if something happened to him filled him with warmth.

"Go," Tyrell commanded, standing up and laying a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Be with your wife. It'll be easier to guard the both of you if you're together."

Jarrod nodded, and clasped his brother's hand in camaraderie.

"Anything happen?" he asked Parkin as he returned to his wife's room.

"Her maid went out ta get her somethin' ta eat," Parkin replied. "That's it."

"Good." Jarrod knocked on the door.

"Come on in," his wife called.

He entered the room, shocked and pleased to find Fiona still in the bath. Her head lay back, her eyes closed, her hands hanging outside the tub. His eyes caressed the graceful curve of her neck that flowed into a beautiful ivory shoulder, down a wonderfully tapered arm, into her bandaged hands. Unfortunately, the tub itself hid everything else.

Not that he really needed to see that much more. He had managed to keep himself busy enough to not imagine her during the day, but at night while he was alone in his huge bed, he found that his imagination was sheet-wrangling thorough.

And the fact that she was only a door away was close to driving him insane.

"Just put it on that table over there," she said, breaking his daydream. She was pointing to a small wooden breakfast tray beside her bed, her eyes still closed.

"Put what there?" he drawled.

Her reaction was instantaneous. She gave a small shriek, her eyelids shooting open. She pulled her knees up and covered her breasts with her arms before giving him a glare that nearly turned him to stone. A good amount of water sloshed out of the tub while she moved.

As Jarrod sauntered towards her, Fiona curled up tighter, fighting the blush that was staining her cheeks. Several thoughts ran through her mind at once.

_What in heaven's name is he doing here?_

_I'm NAKED!_

_He has some nerve, coming in while I was having a bath._

_Where's Elsie? Why hasn't she come back? Oh god, what if she does come back?_

_Why isn't he naked too?_

She shut the last one up quickly, not wanting to see where it was going. Her eyes grew wide as Jarrod shrugged off his still sooty coat. He wasn't _psychic_, was he?

"Wha- what are you doing here?" Fiona stuttered. He was rolling up his sleeves, and bother it if she didn't admire his strong forearms with their sprinkling of blond hair.

"I was going to walk you to dinner, but now that I'm here, it seems you've missed a few places. I'd be remiss in my husbandly duties if I didn't help you out."

He was going to _wash_ her? That means he'd have to get very, very close. A rush of liquid heat coursed through her traitorous body.

He picked up the washcloth and dunked it in the warm water. Then, with so much tenderness it nearly brought tears to her eyes, he began to stroke the soot from Fiona's face.

Fiona stayed completely silent under his ministrations. He seemed to be weaving a spell around them, a silence broken only by the splashing of him dipping the cloth back into the scented water.

"There," he murmured when he was done.

Fiona gave a little nervous laugh. "Thank you. It was hard to wash with my hands." Without moving her arms, she gave a little wave with her bandaged hands.

"No problem." He moved behind her, and Fiona twisted slightly, trying to see what he was up to.

Jarrod had to admire the smooth creaminess of Fiona's back. Even though he had memorised every detail of it from the night she had worn the backless dress, it was still a compulsion. His eyes followed the expanse of pale flesh down past her shoulder blades, down the small knobs of her spine until it curved into the small of her back. The bottom tucked under, hiding the rest of her rear from view. A tendril of her red-brown hair stuck wetly to the side of her neck, the water swirling it into a strange pattern on her shoulder.

"You wear your hair up even in the bath?" he asked, tugging at the lock of hair affectionately.

"Not while I wash it," she said indignantly. "But if I leave it down to dry, it sort of goes… poofy."

"It smells good," he murmured, his breath warm on her cheek. Goosebumps travelled all down her arms, causing her to shiver. She tried to quell it, but Jarrod saw and a positively possessive look came into his eyes.

"I use lavender shampoo," she said, trying to keep the conversation blasé.

"Why not use lilac?" he said, leaning towards the side so that in her slightly twisted position she could manage to see his face, or, more accurately, his sly grin. She felt very much like a mouse being stalked by a very handsome cat.

"Because no one has made lilac shampoo," she replied. She almost laughed again from sheer nervousness. They might have been having the most inane conversation with their mouths, but Jarrod's dark eyes were saying quite a different thing. More along the lines of _you, me, bed, now._

The scary thing was she wanted to agree to it.

"That's disappointing," Jarrod said, running a finger down her jawline. She looked down so that he wouldn't see the budding desire in her eyes. She was within inches of pulling him into the bathtub with her.

"Very much so," Fiona agreed. A loud knock sounded at the door. "Oh my god, that's Elsie! You have to get out!"

"I'm sure she can wait."

She gave him a frumpled look, her emotions too mixed up to give him a proper glare. Jarrod chuckled.

"If it wasn't time for supper," he said, straightening to his feet, "I'd probably just wait in my room, hoping we could finish our… _conversation_."

Fiona gasped. He chuckled again, the sound causing her heart to swell with happiness, which in turn caused her to frown. He was going to leave her there, frustrated and wanting him. The last comment was just a reminder that she was going to have to go to _him_, that he was going to keep his promise. It would be very easy to hate him right then, if she didn't want him so badly.

"Just go away," Fiona muttered, completely petulant and not caring if he noticed.

He crossed to their conjoining door and opened it. He paused halfway through and turned to give her a rakish smile. "Don't make me wait too long."

Fiona blushed straight to the roots of her hair at his double entendre.

The door clicked closed just as Fiona called Elsie in.

If Elsie wondered why her mistress was sitting in the bath alone, red faced and scowling, she had the good insight not to ask.

…

Fiona sat down, feeling quite a bit more confident now that she had several layers of fabric separating her from the outside world. Jarrod had waited patiently for her, and it looked as if Tyrell had come to dinner as well.

"Where's Warren?" she asked about the quiet cousin. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen him in a couple of days.

"He is not here right now," Jarrod replied, starting to serve the food that was laid out on the table. "He's on an ambassador mission for me to Tolaro. He'll be gone for a couple of weeks."

"Oh," Fiona said, scooping up some carrots onto her porcelain plate. After the first few dinners, she had asked the servants to set only three forks out, one for salad, one for entrées, and one for dessert, instead of the usual eleven. They seemed quite happy to do so, probably more for the fact that then they'd only have to wash six forks, instead of twenty-two.

"How are you feeling?" Tyrell asked her.

"Much better," she replied. "And while I was getting dressed, I was struck by a fantastic vision of what I could do with the range."

Jarrod looked at Tyrell worriedly. They seemed to have some sort of conversation without any words. Fiona didn't really understand what they were saying, but knew they were simply reading each other's facial expressions. Her own sisters and her did it often enough for Fiona to recognise it.

Jarrod finally turned a resigned look on her. "Alright," he said. "But don't take on too many projects at once. We are opening the People's Court tomorrow and that is sure to be hectic for the first few days until a routine is settled upon."

"I had completely forgotten about that!" Fiona exclaimed. "I'm going to be busy." Far from causing her worry, all the projects she was taking on was causing her to glow from the inside out. Jarrod just hoped that the glow wouldn't burn itself out.


	25. Midnight Visit

ZOMG, guys! **_300!_** reviews! Just for that, you all get a special bonus chapter! Well, it's not really a bonus chapter, but it's a chapter that's early! WEE!

**livingdead2010:** Thank you so much:cD

**Glaze:** I hope you noticed that I sneaked a sheep reference into this chapter. XcD And, yay for nakedness and poofy-ness! I hope the rest of your day went well.

**Tiger Lily21:** I just enjoy fluff so much. I think some of the most interesting characteristics of people come out during fluffy times. You do such cute little scenes, they make me want to huggle you and your characters. I love it.

**cokefizz-and-chocolate:** Oh, definately. And it's almost like you're getting extra drink, cause you can drink the fizz and get more pop in your cup. If that makes any sense. Jarrod and/or Fiona isn't really going to stand for the teasing anymore. I'm not going to tell you any more than that.

**trillian225:** Hee hee, thanks. Well, I guess no one's really objected to the fluff, so it might be safe if I write some more. But I know that I have to advance the plot _sometime_.

**virgo-valentine:** I'm glad you like my story. I'm adding to it right now, actually.

**HomesIsMyHomie:**Was that not cliffie enough for you? I apologise. I'll try to dobetter next time. XcD What's with the name change, if you don't mind me asking?

**Arieda Rivers:** I'll add that to my 'Jenn's-going-to-see-the-world' tour. Aw. Not enough lovin' for you? Poor Jarrod. Poor Fiona, for that matter. I'm glad to see that I've balanced dialogue and description nicely. I used to be exactly like you, mostly dialogue driven, but I've gotten way better at taking myself out of myself while editing. You know, reading my chapters like I'm reading them for the first time, and adding things where I don't understand.

**mistyqueen:** Thanks. :c)

**awaiting impatient person:** Oh, Jarrod's such a wonderful guy. I just love writing his character. He's so tortured, and yet, he can still be lighthearted underneath it all. He's totally sexy. Fiona doesn't stand a chance. I always love your reviews, they make me so giddy as well!

**Lalaith:** Awesome name. It reminds me of mine. How do you pronounce yours? I sometimes have a bit of problem with romantic pacing 'cause I just love love so much. I just want them to be in love, then have problems. I have heard of Hawk Nelson. I have a friend who's way into Punk, and I think she has one of their CDs. I don't listen to them myself.

**MissaLissa:** I do that all the time too when I get a story I like. I'm glad my story is such a story. I read it through sometimes myself, and I'm amazed at where it's gone as to where I had originally planned it to go. It's evolved.

**cathrine face:** Aw, thanks! I love writing fluff scenes. They're just so much fun. I'm glad it wasn't just our choir that get's on each other's nerves.

**little miss tiny shoes:** You're wonderful too! It seems everyone went away for two weeks at one point. Conspiracy? I think so. (just kidding!)

**Charlie Hazel:** I'll try my hardest! I hope you have fun on your vacation!

**shaz:** Thank you for my **_300th!_** review! I'm glad you liked my story.

Okay guys, down to business. It seems to me that somewhere along in this story there might be a chance for Fiona and Jarrod to get a little, shall we say, steamy here. I've always wanted to try my hand at a love scene (I hate calling them lemons, it makes them sound so tacky. Like an old car), but I don't want to change the rating on my story. If you guys really want it posted, please tell me so, and I'll just slap a huge-ass fourpagewarning on the top. If you don't, I may still write one (for continuity in my own mind) but I'll edit it down to, well, nothing. As an assurance, it won't be inappropriate, it'll be your average checkout counter romance novel type scene, with my own flair of course, but I leave the decision in your capable fingers.

Love as always,

-Lulai

Chapter Twenty-Five: Midnight Visit

It had been a couple days since the fire, and Fiona had completely recovered from her ordeal. In fact, she was standing, looking quite autocratic in her own opinion, on the archery platform, overseeing the men in the rebuilding of the archery shed.

It was going to be marvellous. Not only would it be able to hold twice the amount of equipment, but it would extend a roof over the platform so that they would be able to practise in the rain.

Everything in Fiona's life was perfect. Well, almost everything. She still wasn't on _intimate_ terms with her husband, but she could at least call him her friend. That counted for something, didn't it?

But he had started her Court. And that in itself was a raging success. It seemed everyone in town had a problem. The day that it had opened, the entire hall was filled with people milling about. Fiona made them give their name to a man she had assigned to make a list so she could address them in some semblance of an order.

The first people she had helped were three brothers whose father had just died. They all wanted a share in the farmland, but while the one brother had stayed and helped the ailing man, the other two left to find their own fortunes.

Fiona finally told them to divide the profits from the farm in half, give half to the brother who had stayed, and then divide the other half between the two brothers who had left. The brothers, with a little coaxing, all agreed that it was the best plan.

Problems ranged from simple domestic disputes to taxation arguments to two men who each thought that they owned the same duck.

Fiona treated them all equally, and dealt with all their problems until they felt as though they had a solution.

Finally, when her stomach told her it was dinnertime, she had to turn the others away, telling them to come back the next day. After all, she still had the list of the order. The next day, they came back, and a whole bunch of other people came with them.

Fiona was ecstatic. She was gaining a reputation as a fair and honest queen, as well as a friendly one, and she was helping people again. Her mornings were now spent overseeing the new archery shed, her afternoons filled with her Court, and her evenings with Jarrod, who was trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to teach her chess. Needless to say, she was no longer bored.

"Good work out there, men," she encouraged as the wind made her skirts froth around her feet. She gave a small shiver, and tugged her short brown jacket tighter around her. Fall was coming in the door, hailed not only by the turning of the leaves, but by the coolness of the air at night.

A couple of the men waved at her, before lifting up the new wall. Some held it in place while others hammered it to the supports and packed the bottoms with mud to hold it steady.

The men looked as though they had it under control, so she turned and went to change for her Court. Jarrod, true to his word, had bought her almost two dozen new dresses, all of fancy cut and rich colours. She had made a few adjustments herself (the neckline on one was ridiculously low), but all in all was pleased in how well he knew what she liked. Not wanting to ruin her good finery, however, she had kept her older clothes to oversee the work outside.

As soon as Fiona entered the hall, she could tell that that day was going to be different. Apparently, after the initial swell of problems, the crowd had trickled down to just a few. They were relatively simple problems as well. One woman was making money selling her own rugs, and her husband wanted to control it all. The husband was just wanting the money to help with buying more or better quality food. The woman didn't seem to know that, and was surprised.

"I thought he was just tryin' ta rob me o' me independence," she said.

"Courts, no!" the man said. "I just wanna get ye some better food so ye can work on yer beautiful tapestries some more."

"Perhaps you two can come up with a compromise," Fiona suggested. "For instance, maybe you," she motioned to the wife, "can give your husband half your money to buy food, and keep half for yourself. And you, " Fiona turned her attention to the man, "can include her in the buying of the food."

"That sounds great," the husband said, giving his wife a kiss on the top of her head.

Fiona sighed, wishing all her cases were that easy.

"Is that the last one?" she asked Rinald. He nodded. She lifted herself from her chair.

"Then I'll be in the library. Call me if anyone comes in."

Fiona loved the Drewery Library, with its walls and walls of books. They were arranged quite neatly in two sections of fiction and non-fiction, and were alphabetical by title in each. There was a huge fireplace that wasn't lit during the summer, but now that the days were getting cooler, it was only a matter of time before the servants would lay a roaring blaze in there that would never fully go out.

Huge leather chairs were placed strategically around the room, and every so often, there was a niche in the bookcases that held some sort of artifact from the Drewery's history. There were several suits of armour, an ancient chess set, and (Fiona's personal favourite) a strange looking sword whose blade was criss-crossed with silver lines, as if it had been glued together.

Fiona entered the room and looked around, as if a book would jump out at her to read. Jarrod had been holed up in his conference room all morning, and probably wouldn't be done anytime soon.

She made her way to the fiction section and selected a book at random.

"Hmm," she murmured to herself. "_The Twelve Wives of Winter_." She read the first page and was immediately caught by the dry humour and wit of the tale. She read the first six pages, standing right there before deciding to move to a chair. Clasping the book in her hand, her index finger marking her page, she made her way to one of the brown chairs in front of the fireplace.

Settling down into the extremely comfortable and large chair, she toed off her shoes and pulled off her stockings. She wiggled her toes and immediately tucked them under her skirts before opening her book back up. She rested her jaw on the back of her hand, having propped up her elbow on the arm of the chair.

She sat like that for quite a while, and was well into the tenth chapter when her eyes started to glaze over. The room was so warm, and the chair was so comfortable… She shook her head slightly, but the words stopped making sense, and she started to read just the letters. She snuggled farther down into the chair, dropping her forearm to rest her cheek on her upper arm, her shoulder resting on the armrest.

_I'll just close my eyes for a second_, she thought, doing so, and pulling the book into her chest so as not to lose the page. She was swiftly asleep.

…

Jarrod pinched the bridge of his nose.

"This isn't merely a refusal, your majesty," Thomas Fer Turnbull was saying, "this is a veiled threat."

"An extremely thin threat," Tyrell commented dryly. "They don't really have much to barter with. Even if they do defect and join Equilian, Tolaro barely has a militia. Besides, Equilian remembers the battle we beat them so badly at fifty years ago. They aren't going to be looking for a rematch any time soon."

"Or they're going to be hell-bent on revenge," Thomas argued. "Tolaro might be kindling to the flame."

"What does Tolaro want, exactly?" Lord Sheldon asked.

Jarred motioned to the letter Warren had sent him with a wave of his hand. "According to this, they want to lower the import tax mostly. They also want our absolute assurance that we'd back up any political advances they make."

"And in return?" Sheldon raised an eyebrow.

"Basically, they won't join Equilian." Jarrod looked at the men around his table. "Although Tyrell is right, they don't really have a substantial military force, I would prefer not to give Equilian any more strength than they already have."

"Perhaps we could reach a compromise," Thomas said. "Our biggest economic bonus is our wood, right? Tolaro has nearly stripped bare its island with its over-logging. Perhaps we can offer a reduced rate for our lumber in return for their support."

"Hmm…" Jarrod mused, pressing his fingertips together and resting his mouth against them. He shook his head. "Let's adjourn for today and think on it. We'll make a decision tomorrow."

The men nodded and pushed back their chairs.

Jarrod stood and nodded his farewells to the people around the table. They were a good group of men, not always agreeing on everything, but fair and honest. A lot of them had been friends of his father, and good friends to each other, but even he could see that tempers were starting to flare, and he knew from experience that arguments accomplished nothing.

Jarrod debated on what he was going to do now that he had the rest of the afternoon off.

Fiona's Court might still be running. He had been hearing nothing but compliments about it and he wanted to see how it was going. Giving Fiona the court was probably the best idea he had ever had. While she handled the internal affairs of the kingdom, he was free to concentrate on the international aspects.

"She's at the library," the man responded when Jarrod asked him the whereabouts of his wife. He was not overly surprised to see a fairly empty hall. The man, who was holding a sheet of parchment with a long list of names, most of them scratched out, was writing down the names of anyone who came to call on Fiona. So far, no one new had arrived.

"Thanks," Jarrod said, and made his way there.

Parkin sat outside the door, polishing his sword. Jarrod had assigned Parkin to guard Fiona permanently, although he wasn't to allow Fiona to know about it. She was too kind hearted to think that anyone would want to hurt them. Jarrod was a lot more paranoid.

"Nothin' to report, yer majesty," Parkin said before Jarrod even asked. "She's been in there fer most o' tha afternoon."

Jarrod nodded his thanks and made his way into the library.

Fiona lay curled up in a chair, her cheek resting on her arm, her fingers dangling off the edge of the chair. Half of a bare foot peaked out from under her sapphire skirts. Judging from the book lying under her other hand, she had been reading and fell asleep.

Jarrod gently pried the book she was reading from under her hand and memorised the page number she was on. He settled in the chair across from her and began to read.

Fiona woke slowly to the sound of chuckling. Her head felt stuffy as if it had been packed in cotton. Her mouth was dry and she moved her tongue around to try and moisten it. She opened her eyes, but it took her a couple of seconds to focus them. How long had she been asleep? It felt like she had just dozed off for a couple of minutes.

Jarrod sat in the chair across the way from her, his maroon coat tossed over the back. He was absorbed in the book she had been reading. He chuckled again, and then seemed to notice that she had woken.

"Did you have a good sleep, darling?" he asked, noting the page he was on and putting the book down.

"I think so," she said, sitting up slowly and trying to stretch the kinks out of her muscles. She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "How long have I been napping?"

"Most of the afternoon, actually."

Fiona groaned and let her head fall back down. "I'll never get back to sleep tonight."

"I could think of some things that could keep us occupied." His grin was positively wolfish.

Fiona blushed to the roots of her hair. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," she lied.

"You mean you wouldn't want to play chess?" Jarrod's expression was almost innocent, except for the devilish twinkle in his eyes.

Fiona gave up and ceded the point to him. "First, I'd like something to eat."

After dinner, Fiona sat, glaring at the chessboard. No matter what she did, Jarrod always seemed to be five steps ahead of her, blocking her every move. She slowly moved her bishop diagonally three squares, keeping her finger on it as she looked around, making sure none of his pieces could kill it. Satisfied, she lifted her hand off her piece.

Jarrod took her bishop with his knight.

"Hey!" she protested, her hands on her hips. "You're not allowed to do that! You can't jump over other pieces."

"The knight can," he said, holding up her bishop.

Fiona scowled at him. "Why do I have the feeling you're making up these rules as you go along?"

Jarrod tried to look offended, but a smile was playing about his lips. "We can look them up if you would like."

"No, it's okay. I trust you," she said disgustedly, but more at the game than at him, he was sure. "Fine. If knights are allowed to jump, then…" She moved her knight to take one of his pawns.

Jarrod moved his queen. "Checkmate."

Fiona didn't even bother to look anymore. "Can't you let me win at least once?"

"Of course not," Jarrod said, putting the pieces back into their original positions. "You wouldn't learn anything that way."

"Well, now that I've been taught my lesson," Fiona said, rolling her eyes, "can we play a game that I have a slight chance of winning?"

"Of course," Jarrod said. "What would you like to play?"

"One and thirty," Fiona answered immediately. She loved this game. Her family used to play it all the time.

They moved to the card table, where Fiona picked up the cards and shuffled them with obvious expertise. She dealt each of them three cards, face down and placed the rest in the middle of the table.

Fiona looked at her cards. A jack of clubs, an eight of clubs, and a king of diamonds.

Jarrod drew a card and discarded a two of spades out of his hand. That was no help. Fiona drew next, an eight of diamonds. She placed it in her hand and threw away the king.

Jarrod picked the king up, and Fiona made a face. At least she knew that he was collecting diamonds. Jarrod discarded a five of clubs. Fiona debated over picking it up, but opted to draw instead. She was glad she did as the ace of clubs made its way into her hand. She threw away the eight of diamonds.

Jarrod drew. Fiona frowned as the king of diamonds showed up in the pile again. She knocked. Jarrod drew a final time and discarded it after looking.

"What do you have?"

"Twenty nine," Fiona stated, showing her cards proudly.

"Sorry, darling," Jarrod apologised, although he didn't look like he meant it at all. "Thirty and a half." He laid down a set of three nines.

Fiona scowled, but she knew it was mostly luck of the draw, so her scowl wasn't all that fierce. She piled her three cards on top of the stack and turned the discards over. "Your turn to shuffle."

They played well into the night, and the games were relatively evenly matched.

"I should be getting to bed," Jarrod said finally while Fiona was gathering up the cards to deal again.

"What? How can you be tired?" Fiona asked, disappointed. She had just started winning.

Jarrod chuckled and chucked her under the chin. "Not all of us had a nap today, darling."

"Oh, right." Fiona sighed and set the cards down. She stood.

They walked together down the quiet hallways. Jarrod stopped at her door.

She smiled at him. "Thank you for the great evening, although it consisted mainly of me losing."

"You have no idea what my winning did to my ego," Jarrod teased, the one corner of his mouth coming up. "I should be thanking you."

"I'll see you in the morning," Fiona said, and feeling bold, lifted herself on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. She turned and went into her bedroom before he had even recovered from his shocked position.

Elsie had kindly left a candle lit on her nightstand. Fiona managed to get her dress off, mostly just by pulling it over her head. She slipped out of her underclothes into the silk nightgown that Elsie had laid on the turned down bed.

She blew out the candle and the room was only slightly illuminated through the balcony doors by the moon. It was enough light to make it to her bed, however. She climbed under the covers and tried to sleep, but her brain just wouldn't shut off. She tried counting sheep jumping over a fence, she tried counting frogs jumping from lily pad to lily pad. She tried counting the number of kisses she wanted to give Jarrod, but that had the opposite effect of what she wanted.

She had just started to doze off lightly when a small creak brought her fully awake. Her heart began to beat double. Who would be in her room at that time of night? Having enough sense not to open her eyes, Fiona kept her face relaxed how she _hoped_ she looked while sleeping. She peeked through her eyelashes.

A glitter of steel flashed in the intruder's hand.

Fiona didn't waste another second. She let out a blood-curdling scream and threw her pillow at the attacker, then scrambled out the bed so she could at least have some chance of defending herself. The would-be assassin cursed at the offending feather-filled projectile, lowly and fluently, dropping the dagger and fleeing out the balcony.

Jarrod burst in their adjoining door, sword in hand, and immediately followed the shadowy figure out onto her balcony, almost breaking off the doors as he flung them open. The moonlight made his features seem very blunt, and the expression on his face scared Fiona almost as much as her attacker. He swore and stalked back into the room, his face a controlled mask of rage. Fiona flew to him, burying her face in his chest, desperately trying to control her sobs.

His hand with the sword dropped while the other came up to clutch her tightly around the shoulders as he pressed kisses and murmured reassuring words into her hair. She stopped crying, although she was taking deep quick breaths, trying to calm herself.

"I'm sorry," Fiona said, wiping her eyes and her nose with one hand. She pulled back slightly and tried to wipe the wetness off of his chest. She let out a very unladylike sniff. "I'm such a watering-pot. You must think that all I do is cry."

"Fiona," he said, stopping her hand, his voice tight with anger, "you have nothing, absolutely _nothing_, to be sorry about. You were almost killed! God! If he had succeeded, I… I…" he trailed off, a lump in his throat preventing him from saying anything further. There were no words to explain how he felt anyway, so he pulled her tight to him and brought his mouth down onto hers. He poured all his anger and fear into his passion for her and came up with a tenderness so deep it was almost painful.

Fiona responded, clinging to him, her mouth sweet and her body soft against his.

Someone burst through the door from the hallway, and Jarrod whipped Fiona around so that her back was pressed up against his chest, and he brought his sword up reflexively.

"What the hell happened?" Tyrell demanded, storming in with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other. There were about six or seven guards there as well as Parkin and Elsie.

"Someone decided to give Fiona a little midnight visit," Jarrod said, lowering his weapon. He kept Fiona tight against him. Tremors were still wracking her frame, and he tried to absorb them all into his.

Elsie had a slightly horrified look on her face, and Parkin and several of the other men were politely averting their gazes. He realised that Fiona was dressed only in a slip of a nightgown and he only in a pair of loose pants.

"You three," he said, pointing at three of the guards, "the assailant escaped out the balcony. I want you to go under there and comb the grounds for any trace of him." The men snapped a salute, and ran off. "You two, stand on the balcony, and make sure no one is coming back, and you two stand in front of the doors, and don't let anyone in." The guards followed Jarrod's orders.

"Elsie," he said to the maid, brusquely, but kindly, "I thank you for your concern, but I'm not sure what else you can do here. Please, go back to bed."

Elsie looked to her mistress, who gave her a weak, shaky smile, then nodded at Jarrod, and left. Only the brothers and Fiona were left.

Tyrell lit several sconces of candles and moved over to where the attacker had dropped the dagger. He picked it up. "This looks like one of yours," he said, holding it out to Jarrod. Fiona didn't think it was possible, but Jarrod's countenance became blacker.

"Someone's trying to kill my wife with _my_ daggers?" Jarrod said, his hold around Fiona tightening.

"What if I'm not the target?" Fiona said softly. Both of the brothers looked at her sharply, and she took a deep shaky breath. "I mean, wouldn't it sort of be poetic if a king were killed with his own daggers? And, from outside in the dark, it would probably be fairly easy to mix up our rooms."

"She has a point," Tyrell said to Jarrod.

"You're forgetting the about the fire," Jarrod said. "I don't think that it would be easy to mix Fiona and I up in broad daylight."

"Then, perhaps both of you are targets," Tyrell suggested. "Either way, I'll double the guard patrol outside and in your hallway."

Jarrod gave a sharp nod. "Please."

Tyrell nodded, but before he left, he gave them both a reassuring glance. "We _will_ find out who's behind this, Jarrod." With that he closed the door.

Fiona glanced up at her husband. He looked older than she had ever seen him. These past few weeks had put a huge strain on him, and she felt partially responsible. He was doing everything in his power to help her and all she seemed to do was give him more problems. She bit her lip.

Jarrod let her go with obvious reluctance. "You should try and get some more sleep. I doubt that the attacker will be back again."

Fiona nodded, but Jarrod couldn't read her expression, as her eyes were downcast.

He made sure there were guards in front of both her balcony doors and her hallway doors, then made his way into his own room. He replaced his sword in the sheath that was hanging off the back of one of the chairs and was about to climb into bed when he heard a knock on the door. He pulled it open to see Fiona standing there.

"Yes?" he asked softly.

She looked up at him with her big blue-green eyes. Her hands had each other in a death grip, her knuckles white. She looked back at his toes.

"I don't want to be alone," she whispered, so softly he almost missed it.

"You're never alone," he said, a smile in his voice. He lifted her chin with his finger. "You can sleep here, if you'd like. There is a chair that I can occupy."

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "It's okay," she said, deliberately parroting her words from earlier. "I trust you."

She really was too good to be true. He escorted her to his –no, _their_– bed and climbed in the other side, hauling her close to him. She smelt of flowers and life, and her warmth was like a balm on his heart. She gave a gusty sigh, snuggling closer into his embrace. Brushing a kiss against her hairline, Jarrod threw an arm over her waist, trying to be as in much in contact as possible. They stayed wrapped in each other like that until morning.


	26. Peacemaker

Holy smoke, guys! Thanks for all the reviews, be they good or bad. I'm sorry this wasn't up yesterday, but I've been camping (technically, I'm still camping, but I got to come home today between church and work.) 

**cokefizz-and-chocolate:** No problem. I love reading other people's stories, and you have quite a good one going there. :c)

**Charlie Hazel:** Thanks! I hope you have fun on your vacation!

**Tiger Lily21:** Oh, I love that scene. That's kind of what I imagine the Drewery library to be too, except without the big windows, so it's a little darker. Yay for cuteness! They always manage to find a nice moment, even when faced with danger. Yes! You must write more on Jemima, but I noticed you have a new story up. I must go read that (and then work some more on this one ((Gulp!)))

**Akwyn:** Yeah,they pretty much were a message to Jarrod. Poor them!

**trillian225:** Yay! Good fluffy plot driving-ness! I always like to do that. Add a little bit of one of my other stories into the story I'm currently working on.

**Areida Rivers:** Aw, Jarrod's almost too good to be true, although he's driving Fiona crazy (as you'll see in this chapter.) They are friends.

**Glaze:** Speaking of your story... (hint hint!) OMG, you gave up Harry Potter for this? That's amazing. Although, this is a little bit shorter than HP. I don't really read HP, but my sister does.

**panemonium:** That's okay. That happens to me all the time as well. I just get so busy, and I feel like I really don't have anything worthwhile to say, so I end up not reviewing. Then I feel bad when they only get like four reviews or something. Actually, as a bit of a spoiler, that talk in the meeting room is actually a bit of a set-up for my next story (yes, I have one started inmy head).

**monkeys-and-bananas76:** Thanks. :c)

**MissyMay:** I'm glad my story made you feel better! I love it when things do that. Reviews always make me feel happy.

**HomesIsMyHomie:** True dat. The sexual tension is so thick, you could cut it with a dagger! (larf larf) I'm glad you embrace change. Your name is a reference to the Homes of the Sherlock type, right?

**anonymous:** Thanks for reviewing, mysterious stranger. XcD

**Kat Laleh:** Aw, I don't like to think of it as a competition. I'm super surprised myself at how many reviews I actually get. Thanks! I think there's a time for an instant relationship, but more often then not, they have to get to know each other. I love Fiona too! Ah, me and my dialogue. I love my dialogue. I totally get what you mean. I've tried really hard to start to do that, but I guess I still have some ways to go. Thanks for the cc! Have a blast in London! (I'm so jealous!) I'll totally read your story. I haven't had much time, but I'll will later on! I actually started to read that one that you're getting publish, and thought it was really good. i was both angry and excited when it ended. Angry, cause I want to read the rest, and excited for you, because getting published is so cool! Good luck!

**rootbeergirl19:** Ah, well, I'm sorry bout that. But when you hit 300, you hit 300. Jarrod knows someone was out to get _him_, he just wasn't sure whether Fiona was an actual target, or just an opportunity that came up, that was all. He sure as heck knows now.

**shaz: **Thanks. :cD

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** thanks. Fiona's not really one to sit around and look pretty when it comes to ruling. And Jarrod loves her too much tomake her, so it'sa great compromise.

**CalliopeMused:** Fiona probably has a good set of lungs on her too. It shocked the one guy in the marketplace into dropping her, and it seemed to have awoken half the castle. Yay for the sheep! They are kind of stupid, and they have weird eyes, but the cartoon ones always look so cute!

**cinnimon:** Yay!

**Nyeren:** I think that in the given circumstances, lemons can be quite sweet. Especially when coated in sugar.

**SerayaNeko:** Yes, you caught me. I was actually reading 'The Twelfth Night' as I was writing that chapter, and I was trying to think of the name of a book, but didn't want to name it too plageristic. So I combined that with the Merry Wives of Windsor and that's the title that came to mind. Kudos to you for catching it!

**cloverluck11:** Thanks. You! Sleep!

**awaiting impatient person:** Yes'm. Jarrod shirtless is nice, and it seems to happen more often than not in this story. That would be so hilarious! I can just imagine it (especially the part about Fiona blushing and punching him) 'When life gives you lemons, SHUT UP AND EAT YOUR DAMN LEMONS!' That one's my personal favourite.

**Aura Rayne:** Thanks. I really like your sign name.

**cathrine face: **I'm a romantic too. Sometimes, I have to beat up a couple people to stop them from teasing me about it.

**love's lover: **I'm wondering if you're a romantic too, by your name.

**Glitterpoison:** No guesses? I'm sure there are many guesses. (The butler did it!) Not all of them may be right, though.

**little miss tiny shoes:** Thanks! I love them together too! Are you asking me to preread your story? Kind of like a beta? ((chokes up)) I'd love to! I don't know if my e-mail is on my profile, but please, e-mail it to me!

Okay, people, the moment you've all been waiting for.

Yay's: 9

Nay's: 2

Meh's: 5

I believe the yay's have it. But, in honour of my other non-yay readers, I hereby to solemnly swear to write it at the end of a chapter (so you don't even have to skim through it to see where it ends), to not include any important plot points (or reiterate them in a non-lemon scene), and to post FRIGGIN HUGE BOLD UNDERLINED ITALICISE WARNINGS at both the beginning of the chapter and before the actualevent is about to take place so no one would be offended. And about the rating, if you don't have to be 18 to buy a romance novel, I really don't think you have to be 18 to read that one scene. If you feel that you must flame me about this, then I guess I won't stop you, but, honestly, it's just one chapter. Just boycott my stories from now on if it makes you feel better.

Are you with me, yay or nay?

((silence))

Which one means yes?

((sigh)) yay.

**YAY!**

Ten points and a virtual cookie to whoever can name that movie.

-Lulai

Chapter Twenty-Six: Peacemaker

Jarrod woke up in a pleasant mood. It probably had something to do with the warm female asleep in his arms. He looked down at Fiona's face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth curved in a dreamy half-smile. He couldn't help himself; he had to touch her. He traced her velvety eyebrows with a finger, then feathered her silky eyelashes. She didn't wake up under his ministrations, but he stopped anyway. His body was tight with need. All the touching and not having was wreaking havoc on his senses, and he needed a walk to cool down.

He rolled out of bed, making sure to pull the covers back up around Fiona's shoulders, and shrugged a shirt on. He pulled on a pair of boots and tried to straighten his hair so it didn't look nearly so tousled.

"Don't let anyone in, and don't let Fiona leave," Jarrod instructed the two guards standing in the hallway outside his room.

They nodded. He began to leave, but then paused and turned back. "One of you should stand in front of my wife's room as well." The man nodded and paced down several feet until he stood in front of Fiona's door.

Jarrod returned several minutes later, baring a tray of food, to find his wife pacing his room angrily. She had obviously been to her own room as she was dressed in one of the dresses Jarrod made her buy, a smart sky blue morning dress with short ruffled sleeves and small white buttons down the front.

"Do you know that your guards wouldn't let me leave?" she exclaimed furiously as soon as she saw him. "And under _your_ order too."

"Of course I asked them not to let you leave. How can I serve my wife breakfast in bed if she's not around when I return?"

She stopped her pacing and looked at him, her expression softening. "Oh," she said.

He brought the food around to her and she sat down on the bed to eat it. He sat down next to her and stole a couple of pieces of fruit.

"I have to be honest with you," she said halfway through her scrambled eggs.

"Please," he replied, as he took a sip of her orange juice. She gave him a look.

"If you're so hungry, why didn't you get yourself breakfast?" she asked, ripping her muffin in half and handing one end to him.

"I wasn't hungry when I got it," he replied, accepting the muffin with a slightly sheepish grin. "Besides, I could only carry one tray."

"Okay. But that wasn't what I was going to say." She took a bite of sausage, her brow wrinkled in concentration as she formulated how to ask the question in the least offensive way. "I'm wondering… what prompted you to decorate your room like this?"

"I didn't," Jarrod said, standing up abruptly. "This was originally my brother's room."

"Your older brother?" Fiona asked, setting the tray aside. While she was slightly relieved that he hadn't ordered the massacre of the room, she wondered why he hadn't switched it. He had a great sense of fashion, at least from what she could see.

"Yes," he said shortly, not looking at her. He was standing facing the window in his soldier's stance, legs spread and his hands clasped behind his back.

She stood as well, determined to get to the bottom of this. "But you like it," she said curiously.

He was silent so long that she was sure that he wasn't going to answer the question. But finally, he replied in a low voice, "No."

She knew she should drop it, the tone in his voice was warning her, but she was writhing with curiosity. And Fiona never dealt well with curiosity.

"Why haven't you changed it?"

His brown eyes were gazing off into the distance, haunted, but at her question, they snapped to her face.

"Because it's not my place to do that," he said, irritation in his voice.

His irritation irritated her. Why was he getting annoyed? He had no reason; she hadn't even asked any really personal questions.

"You _are_ king here now," she said, an edge creeping into her own voice.

"But I wasn't supposed to be," he said condescendingly.

"That's right," she said, her voice cutting, her hands on her hips. "You were supposed to be married to Belinda Fer Tolaro and have twenty children."

"Belinda?" Jarrod was surprised. He had forgotten that she knew who Belinda was. But even Belinda was an easier topic to discuss than Marcus was.

"You can't forget the love of your life, the woman who you had chosen to be your wife."

Meaning that he hadn't chosen Fiona herself. Was it possible that she was a little jealous? She had absolutely no reason to be. Comparing Fiona and Belinda was like comparing the sun to a candle.

"I heard that she was very beautiful."

She _was_ jealous.

"She was," he answered her. "And had a head as empty as a drum."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise and her arms dropped to her sides. "But you wanted to marry her," she protested.

"I suppose I did," he said with a humourless smile. "But that was before I found her in the stables with her thighs wrapped around one of the stable hands."

Fiona looked shocked, but whether at what happened or at his crude language, he didn't know.

"Oh my god," she said. Her poor husband. He didn't only lose most of his family, his fiancée, the woman he was going to marry, betrayed him. No wonder he had withdrawn into himself.

"Yes," he said, giving an ironic self-mocking laugh and turning to the window. Grey clouds were covering every inch of blue in the sky. It would probably rain before the day was out. "And to make matters worse, he was not the first. Everyone knew, and everyone tried to tell me, but I didn't understand what they were saying."

He shook his head. "I guess I wasn't enough for her, if she couldn't give up her men for me."

"The idiot."

Jarrod turned to look at his wife. She stood with her arms crossed on her chest, her face drawn in a frown.

"Did she have anything to do with why you married me?" she asked softly, vulnerability shining in her eyes.

"What?" Jarrod asked, utterly confused.

Her gaze dropped to the floor. "It occurred to me that if your last woman had problems with monogamy, then perhaps someone who didn't have much contact with men, someone who wasn't stunning would be safer to you."

Jarrod didn't know what to be angrier about, that she had even asked the question, or the fact that she didn't think herself stunning.

"I married you because I wanted to help you and your family. Not because I was trying to wipe Belinda from my memory." It was mostly true. In a way, he did marry her because she wasn't Belinda, but it wasn't because of that that he proposed. He liked the features that just happened to make her different. He didn't know how to explain it to her, though. He barely understood it himself.

Fiona nodded. "I just had to know."

Jarrod didn't say anything. He was still reeling from her questions and his answers to them.

"How can I help you?"

His attention snapped back to her. How could she help him? Didn't she know how much she had already helped him? How she was saving him from the darkness in his soul?

Of course she didn't. He could never find the words to tell her. He just didn't know how to tell her without revealing what she was saving him from. He couldn't do that.

She was looking at him with an intensity that made him nervous. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Her gaze flickered to the ground before meeting his again. "You can take it out on me, if you want. Let me take away your pain." She began to undo the buttons that marched down the front of her dress.

Jarrod could only stare at her. Was she serious? She was going to let him pour three years worth of pain and self-hatred into her virginal body.

She wasn't looking at him, rather staring resolutely at the buttons on her dress.

He suddenly knew why she was offering herself to him. She needed to do this, to save him, just as she perceived that he had saved her. She liked being in control of her life, and if she made love to him now, she would regain that little bit of balance. Two weeks ago, he would have taken her up on her offer. Hell, two days ago he would have. But not now.

Her fingers shook a little, but Jarrod closed the distance between them and stopped her hands from going any further. They stood in silence as Jarrod redid up her buttons. After the last one, he rested his hands on her shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze.

"There are many things I'd like to 'take out on you,' Fiona," he said, "desire and passion being the two that come to mind, but pain and anger are not on that list."

He dragged a finger along her jaw, tenderly. "When we make love, I want it to be because you want me, not because you feel as though you have to drape yourself over an alter."

Two angry splotches rose in Fiona's cheeks. "Is that what you think I'm doing? Martyring my maidenhead to make you feel better?"

"Darling, I know that's what you're doing," he said, oddly touched. Fiona only made those sacrifices for people she cared about, and that he was included in that list warmed him right to the core. Fiona looked like a chastened child- albeit one that is more remorseful about being caught then of the actual offending action.

"Go check on your archery range," Jarrod said. "Come back to me when you want me for yourself. When we share a bed, I don't want anyone else in it."

Fiona strode to the door, but paused when she touched the knob.

"If you want us to be alone in bed," she said quietly, "then why don't you let go of some of your demons?"

She left, but her words rang in Jarrod's head for a long while.

…

Thunk! _Idiot._

Thunk! _Moron._

Thunk! _Imbecile._

Fiona stood in her new range, shooting at targets that she made the young boys paint. Every arrow she released was accentuated in her mind with an epithet, but whether they were to Jarrod or herself, even she wasn't clear on. After a while, she ran out of names, so she began repeating herself.

Thunk! _Bloody idiot_.

She can't believe that she had actually suggested that he take out his pain on her. She felt like the biggest fool ever. A fool for how she pouted when he didn't make love to her, a fool for how she behaved. A double fool because almost everything he had said was true. She had been using him to try and even the scales. How many times had he saved her? Three times? Four?

Of course, she should have known that Jarrod wouldn't have accepted her under those circumstances. She normally would have admired it, but at the moment, her pride was too bruised to think about anything but licking her wounds.

But she wouldn't turn her back on him like Belinda Fer Tolaro. Honestly, what was that woman thinking? She obviously couldn't see Jarrod for what he was worth. Silly twit.

Thunk! _Stupid moron_.

"Can I interrupt?" Tyrell stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Fiona shrugged, although his resemblance to Jarrod made her heart ache. She turned back to her target.

Thunk! _Goddamn idiot_.

"I assume that you and Jarrod had a fight," Tyrell commented dryly, picking up another bow from off a peg on the wall. He ran the string through his fingers, testing its flexibility.

"Is that your professional opinion?" Fiona asked sarcastically.

"Call it an educated guess," Tyrell responded with a faint grin. "You're here in a black temperament, and Jarrod's locked himself in his study in a similar mood."

"What makes you think my mood is black?" Fiona asked. Thunk! _Stupid bugger._

"Just that you've been shooting arrows for the past twenty minutes without anyone else, and you're about as cheery as these rain clouds," Tyrell said, motioning to the grey blanket that covered the sun. "Want to talk about it?"

"No. Yes. He's so bloody stubborn!" Fiona burst out. "He won't talk about anything. Least of all, your brother."

"Marcus?" Tyrell was calmly aiming an arrow. He fired. He was good, but no where near Fiona's level. "That's a touchy subject with him."

Fiona snorted. "You can tell me." She was quickly running out of ammo, and curses, and she was no where near feeling better.

Tyrell lowered his bow and looked at Fiona. "You have to understand. Marcus was Jarrod's hero. His idol." He rested his hands on top of his bow, his expression distant. "Marcus was everything Jarrod wasn't and wanted to be. Handsome, charming, funny, with a thousand friends, and a million women."

"Jarrod's all that too, except maybe for the last part," Fiona interjected, feeling the need to defend her husband, no matter how irritated she was at him.

"Yes, I know that," Tyrell said, looking mildly amused, "but Jarrod can be rather… introspective, while Marcus was one of those outgoing personalities that drew people to him."

Fiona understood. His admiration of Marcus sounded quite a deal like her envy of Nia. Two less than perfect siblings with an absolutely stunning one overshadowing them. A corner of her mouth tucked up wryly. It was an ironic twist indeed that the underdogs came out on top. She shot another arrow, but this time didn't really feel the need to compound it with a curse.

Tyrell continued on. "Jarrod tried his hardest to be exactly like Marcus, but the only thing he could even equal Marcus was in combat. In fact," Tyrell's lips stretched into a grin, "Marcus was quite useless while Jarrod was extremely proficient, especially at blades."

Fiona nodded, her mind going back to the fight with the Wild Men back outside Castle Fer Havara. He had proven himself a master at daggers, and she could imagine how prowess with a sword. It also answered why he was so fit.

"But what does this have to do with anything?" she asked. It helped explain some things, like how he was known as such a rake before his brother died, then turned around completely. But none of this could really hurt him that deep down, could it?

Tyrell shrugged. "I think that Jarrod feels guilty that Marcus died and he inherited the throne. That's why he doesn't change the room."

"That explains what he said to me this morning," Fiona said, mostly to herself.

"I think that you're helping him, though," Tyrell said, deceptively casual.

"Oh?" Fiona tried to keep her visage just as cool, but a hopeful note still crept into her voice. She knocked her last arrow, trying for a casual pose.

Tyrell nodded. "I've seen him smile more times this week than the last two years put together."

Fiona couldn't help the silly grin that crossed her face. She was helping him!

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?" Fiona asked, drawing back and aiming.

"That you love him."

Fiona balked and the arrow fired wildly, missing the target entirely and hitting the sheet she had put way far back. She turned to glare at Jarrod's brother, her hands on her hips, making sure her guards were out of earshot. She could at least keep this within family.

"What makes you think that I love him?" she hissed.

Tyrell gave her a disbelieving glance. "Fiona, you are completely transparent. I'm surprised that Jarrod can't see it himself. I can see it every time you two look at each other. It would be revolting if it wasn't so sweet."

Fiona groaned. As she remembered, Genevieve had no problem seeing it either.

"So, are you?"

"What, in love with him, or going to tell him?" Fiona hung up her bow on the peg and Tyrell followed suit.

"Both."

"Yes, and no."

"Why not?"

Fiona's lips twisted in a wry grin. "Because I'm a big coward. I don't want to give away my heart without some assurance that I might be gaining his as well."

"What makes you think you aren't?" Tyrell stepped down from the platform and assisted her in gathering her arrows.

Fiona shrugged. "He hasn't said as much, and he has no reasons to hide his feelings from me."

Tyrell gave her a look, handing her his handful of arrows as they made their way to the sheet to get Fiona's wild one. "He has every reason you have. Almost more so as he wasn't the one who entered this marriage for the sake of her family." He reached above his head and gave the arrow a vicious tug. It came out fairly easily.

"Still," Fiona protested, picking up her bow and the arrows and locking them both up in the new shed, "I have my pride."

A strange noise came from behind her. She turned to see Tyrell's back towards her, his head down and his shoulders shaking. Her eyes narrowed as she realised he was trying to hold back laughter.

"What?" she snapped.

That seemed to be his breaking point. His laughter echoed across the range, and Fiona felt her cheeks go a little red despite herself.

"Oh," he said, turning to her, chuckling and holding his stomach as if it hurt him, "you're as stubborn as he is. You really are perfect for him."

Fiona frowned, not really sure whether she was just complimented or not.

He came forward to rest his hands on her shoulders. "You should talk to him. Push, but push gently."

Fiona didn't really know what he meant, but she nodded anyway. He gave her a satisfied nod, then dropped his hands.

"I must be getting back to the castle," he said, as Fiona walked him to the door at the back of the archery range.

"Tyrell wait!" she called to his retreating back. He turned and raised his eyebrows in question. "If Marcus was the lover, and Jarrod the fighter," she asked, "what were you?"

A grin split Tyrell's face. "Didn't you guess? I was the peacemaker."


	27. Love

Wee! Chapter up! And I totally didn't think that _this_ would be the romance chapter, but it just turned out like that. Oh well. I hope it's not too bad.

**PrincessofRain:** Hey, thanks.

**Tiger Lily21:** I know some people are sensitive, and I don't think that's a bad thing at all. It's actually kind of cool. Please, don't change! I love your stories, and they just wouldn't be the same if you were different (if that made any sense at all). I think that Heart's Desire is going to be a great story, and I don't mind that you're putting Jemima on hold. You notice that I only write one story at a time, else my head might explode.

**monkeys-and-bananas76:** Maybe. ((shifty eyes)) I'm glad you love it. You're story is really cute as well!

**HolmesIsMyHomie: **COMING RIGHT UP!

**cokefizz-and-chocolate:** Thank you very very much! When I first started out, I was having Tyrell and Warren being a bigger part of the story, but unfortunately, the sisters took up a lot of it, so I tried to cut down on characters a little bit.

**awaiting impatient person:** Oh, everyone knows it, but Jarrod and Fiona are far too stubborn to even hint at that to each other. Mmm. I love your randomness. :cD

**Missyblue:** Thank you!

**letylyf:** Oh, the agony! All the build up and then, bam. Cliff. I think a good love scene'll do them some good (in more ways than one!) I love camping. Ew for slugs. I remember being on a hike, and our guide telling us that if we're ever lost in the woods, we can eat slugs for nurishment (curse my spelling!) and all I could think of was _I'd rather eat bark._ Blerg.

**panemonium:** I love that movie so much! 'You lost yer arms in battle. but ye grew some nice boobs.' A little bit next chapter. It was only the three brothers and Warren.

**always belle:** Yay!

**virgo-valentina:**Really, you'd think they would have just told each other they love each other and live happily ever after by now, eh?

**Sirenic Griffin:** That's okay. I'm glad you're back. Thanks. Well, Tyrell isn't afraid to tell it as it is, while Jarrod would storm in silence, and Marcus would surround himself with other friends. Tyrell would make them come together and listen, but that doesn't mean he didn't fight with the others.

**Akwyn:** Ah! Curse you, spell-checker! How much have you ruined my life? Thank you for that. Unfortunately, the knocked error is my fault. I don't do archery much, so I don't really know _that_ much about it.

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** Thanks. :c) As I said before, I planned to make him a bigger character, but it was just getting to convoluted for my simple mind, so I cut him down a little. That would be harsh with Marcus and Belinda.

**Lalaith:** Cool. I was just wondering. No problem. I'm totally not offended if people skip the ending of this chapter, which is why made sure there was more to this chapter than that. And, you're right. We have a Prime Minister.

**cinnamon:** Thanks!

**rootbeergirl19:** We rob from the rich, and give to the poor, that's right!

**rebeka13:** Thanks. :c)

**MissaLissa:** Thanks so much! Oh, me too! I'm sorry if this isn't out before you're gone, but at least you'll have something to read when you get back.

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** Thank you very much! Don't worry, it's more fluff than anything. Just replace thewhole scenewith 'They kissed,' and you'll probably have no problem with the rest of the story.

**Glaze:** Oh, I hope you didn't hurt yourself too badly! Belinda was a complete ho-bag. Did you like the Harry Potter? Apparently, it's a big shocker at the end (For everyone else reading this: no spoilers! although I already know the ending.) Yay!

**Glitterpoison:** I know a couple sets of siblings like that. Or else, they have two fighters and one peacemaker. You're right!

**amelia:** I think he's cute too! I love him in Princess Bride (except for that little pony tail thing he has going on)

**Areida Rivers:** I think squealing like a fangirl is a beautiful release, else all that bubbly stuff will probably go to your brain and cause a stroke, so don't be afraid to babble away! And, although most of the stuff in here is pure mush, the next chapter (which I'm about halfway done), is, in my humble opinion, a friggin awesome chapter. I can't wait to post it.

**little miss tiny shoes:** Yay! I'm excited to read your story. I know about this 'REAL LIFE' thing people keep talking about, but sometimes I'm able to ignore it for a while.

Okay guys, here it is.

**_HUGE FRIGGEN WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS A SEXUAL SCENE AT THE END. I WILL WARN YOU WHEN IT STARTS, BUT PLEASE, HAVE A SLIGHT SENSE OF MATURITY AND DON'T SPAM ME TO DEATH BECAUSE, HONESTLY, I'LLJUST IGNORE THEM/YOU. THANK YOU._**

And thus. On to the story.

-Lulai

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Love

Jarrod put the letter away from him in disgust. It was really good, he knew that, Tyrell had done an excellent job. He had basically said 'no' to Tolaro's demands and proposed Protantia's options without insulting them at all. It was a gift of his.

But he couldn't read it in the mood he was in without wanting to add rude remarks and childish names.

It was all his fault too. He was an ass. And as typical, Fiona had called him on it. It was stupid to hold her to such an unfair double standard. He wanted her to think only of him, but he wasn't about to 'let go of his demons' for her.

For the first time in two years, he just wanted to hit something. He wanted to storm around the room, pulling books off the shelf, and make his study as unorganised and chaotic as his mind.

But he was the king now, and not seven years old, so he sat behind his desk and affixed his signature and his seal to the letter to Tolaro.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He should probably go apologise, no matter how much he didn't want to. It was expected of him.

He folded the letter, and dropped some wax from the candle beside him onto the fold, then pressed the wax with his ring. He flipped the letter over and addressed it to the king of Tolaro.

Holding the letter in one hand, Jarrod crossed to the door, and motioned a servant forward.

"Give this to Jarvis in the messenger department," he instructed the young maid. "Tell him to deliver it as soon as possible."

"Aye, yer majesty," the maid said with a bow, and scurried off.

Jarrod debated about finding his wife, but turned back to his desk and the mound of paperwork on it. If he was a coward, then so be it.

He was interrupted a few hours later by a knock on the door. Frowning, he debated on letting whomever it was in, but finally sighed and called out, "Enter."

Tyrell entered, looking rather pleased with himself, which irritated Jarrod to no end.

"Yes?" Jarrod asked, giving his brother what he hoped was a superior look. He had just started to forget Fiona and her offer with his head in the finances, but now that he was distracted, she began to creep back into his mind.

"You've been locked in here for the morning and most of the afternoon," Tyrell responded. "I thought you might like some human company."

Jarrod was surprised. "Has it really been that long?" He remembered accepting the luncheon tray, but that didn't seem all that long ago. He checked watch. It was only about an hour to dinner.

"Yes. Your wife wanted to send in a rescue team, but I said that I'd come in and check on you."

"You've spoken with Fiona, then?" Jarrod asked, leaning back in his chair.

Tyrell nodded, assuming his usual sprawl in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "I have."

"And?" Jarrod prodded when he didn't continue.

"She asked about Marcus."

Jarrod closed his eyes. She would have. One thing he had learned about Fiona was that once she got her claws in an idea, not even the full force of the Protantian army would sway her.

"And I assume you told her everything?" Jarrod snapped, not opening his eyes. A surge of guilt swept through him. Tyrell couldn't tell her everything; Tyrell didn't even know his darkest secret.

"Not everything, but most of it." Tyrell paused, considering his words. "I believe she's coming to care for you," he said slowly. "I want the truth to come from you."

"I can't do that Tyrell," Jarrod said, opening his eyes to stare out the window. It had finally started raining, and the water distorted the glass, making the entire hillside and town seem like it was underwater. "I can't risk her leaving me."

"Take your head out of your ass, Jarrod," Tyrell snapped, causing Jarrod's attention to shift to him, surprised. "If you think that Fiona will leave you over a trivial thing you did in your past, then you don't know her at all."

Jarrod rose from his chair, bracing himself by his arms on the desk. "How can you call my problem 'trivial'? You don't even know what it is!"

A flicker of hurt passed behind his brother's eyes. "No. I don't."

Jarrod sighed and pinched his nose again. The pressure in his forehead was killing him. "I'm sorry Tyrell. I would like to tell you, I really would, but you wouldn't understand."

Tyrell nodded and rose. "Then talk to Fiona. Trust in her. I can assure you, you won't be disappointed."

Jarrod somehow swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I'm not worried about her disappointing me, I'm worried about disappointing her."

Tyrell gave him an enigmatic smile. "You'll never know until you tell her, will you?"

Tyrell turned, but paused right before he went through the door. "Just to warn you," he said with a grimace, "Rachel Fer Grenalda and her mother are here."

Jarrod groaned. Could the day possibly get any worse?

Rachel was an attractive woman, who didn't see her marriage to Percival in impediment to her relationships to half the men in the kingdom. Her latest goal seemed to be trying to get Jarrod into bed.

Unfortunately, her mother encouraged her behaviour, probably consoling herself with the thought that her unfaithful daughter deserved to be treated like a princess.

Jarrod couldn't stand the woman. Practically loathed her. And he was not looking forward to an encounter. Perhaps if he took the back way…

No such luck. Rachel seemed to be waiting to pounce, like a vulture over a dying cow.

"Good evening, your majesty," she oozed. She was dressed quite provocatively in a bright red and gold dress that was cut so low, he was sure a false move would cause her bosoms to fall out. Although, now that he thought about it, Rachel might not be above such a manoeuvre to attract a man.

"Good evening, my lady," he responded through slightly gritted teeth.

Fiona rounded the corner, fully intending on dragging Jarrod out of his room and into dinner so that they could discuss… stuff… like civilised people.As soon as she saw Jarrod and some other woman, however, she skidded to a stop and hid behind the corner.

She wasn't spying on Jarrod. She trusted him implicitly. It was that woman that had made fun of her that she didn't trust. The one with the pea soup dress. Although, today, she was wearing a huge red dress that was cut so low, she was surprised it stayed up.

"It's such a _warm_ evening," the woman was saying, running her fingers over Jarrod's arm as Fiona poked her head around the corner. A sudden urge to scratch the woman's eyes out arose in Fiona. The depth of her anger surprised her. She wasn't usually the violent type.

Jarrod, to Fiona's relief, politely, but firmly took a step away from her hands, saying, "Actually, I've found it rather cool as of late."

The woman wasn't deterred. "I can think of a few ways we can keep warm," she practically purred.

Fiona's mouth dropped open. Jarrod had said the same sort of things to her, but they were married for Courts' sake! And so was the pea soup lady.

Apparently, Jarrod also remembered that fact. "Are you here to see Percival?"

She sniffed delicately. "Percival is always working. I did come to see him, but luckily, I bumped into you. Now I won't be so bored, and this trip won't be in vain."

Jarrod looked at the woman (what _was_ her name?) with if not outright loathing, then at least active dislike. Fiona snorted quietly to herself. Jarrod would never be adulterous. Even if it was within his nature (which it wasn't), his own experiences with Belinda killed any notion of that. This woman was obviously dumber than a post.

"I'm afraid it will be, Lady Rachel," he said, his voice cool, as Fiona knew that he always took when he was trying to control his emotions, "as you see, I'm married now."

"Yes, and I've met your country bumpkin of a wife," Rachel said with a sneer. "She surely couldn't keep a man of your tastes… entertained."

"I can assure you that my tastes do not run to ageing wives with infidelity issues," Jarrod replied in his calm manner. Rachel took a step back, her eyes narrow.

"What does she have that I don't?" she pouted.

_A conscious_, Fiona thought silently. _A sense of morality. A sense of _fashion_, for goodness' sake._

But Jarrod summed it up quite succinctly. "Me."

Fiona's heart started beating double, and she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face, or the warmth that flowed through her body.

Rachel looked at him in surprise. "You can't honestly _like_ that mouse of a girl, can you?"

"Fiona is a beautiful, loyal, honest woman, a far cry from my present company. I am proud to call her my wife." Jarrod's voice took on a harder edge, trying to dispel Lady Pea Soup.

It wasn't a declaration of love, but Courts, it was the next best thing! Fiona leaned back against the wall, and had to refrain from clasping her hands to her breast in a besotted female pose.

Well, she had better go save her husband from any more of this painful encounter. She straightened her skirts and patted her hair, and walked around the corner.

"Oh, Jarrod! Lady Rachel," she said with a slight nod. "I think your husband is waiting for you in the front hall."

"Thank you, your majesty. Your majesty," she said with an angry bow to the both of them.

"What were you two talking about?" she asked, taking Jarrod's arm.

He gave her an odd look. "You seem to be in good spirits," he said, as they walked to the breakfast room.

She shrugged. "I've had a lot of time to think. I'd like to apologise for what happened this morning."

"No. It's me who should be apologising. I overreacted."

"And I stuck my nose in where it doesn't really belong," Fiona said with her lopsided grin. "How about we split the blame down the middle and call a truce? We were both a little wound up from the goings on last night."

"Of course," Jarrod said, interlocking his fingers with hers and running his lips over her knuckles.

"So what were you and Lady Rachel talking about?" she repeated her earlier question.

"You, actually," Jarrod replied, the corner of his mouth tucking up.

"Oh?" Fiona feigned ignorance. "Compliments, I hope."

"Can there be anything else with you?"

Fiona laughed. "Flatterer."

…

Fiona dismissed Elsie from her room after the maid had helped her strip out of her dress and into her nightgown. After the door clicked closed, Fiona burst out of her chair and began to pace. Her mind was far too busy to sit. She walked over to her bureau and pulled out a crystal brandy decanter. She toyed with the amber drink, then made up her mind, and took a swig of the liquid courage.

It burned all the way down to her stomach, and she nearly spluttered, but swallowed the bitter liquid. She'd need all the courage she could gather because tonight…

She was going to seduce her husband.

It was awful exciting, and more than a little scary. But Jarrod had said that he was proud of her, that he was proud to call her his wife. And she wanted to be his wife – his proper wife. Giving him her body was only the first step. He had already offered her his. She just hoped that he would be equally as generous when she offered him her heart.

There was absolutely no denying it anymore. She loved him. Loved, loved, loved him!

And for that reason, Fiona took another sip of brandy, then picked up the plate of fruit and cheese that she had sneaked into her room, and marched over to their conjoining door. She took a deep breath to try and slow her heart, then knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

She turned the knob and poked her head inside.

"Jarrod?" she called softly. She realised there was no one in the room. "Oh, bugger," she swore, stepping into the red and gold disaster that was her husband's chambers. She guessed she could wait for him. After dinner, he said that he only had a couple more bits of paperwork to file through before the end of the day.

She sat in front of the fireplace. It was lit, casting a warm glow over everything.

It was almost half an hour later before she heard motions outside. She straightened her appearance, and glanced morosely at the plate of food, of which only a quarter was left.

Her husband came in, talking quietly to his valet. Robertson nodded at something that Jarrod murmured at him, and left.

Jarrod took off his tan superfine coat, flinging it over a chair. His cravat had already been untied, probably while he was working. He pulled it off and threw it with the coat. He toed off his boots and was in the midst of taking off his shirt when Fiona interrupted him.

"Good evening, Jarrod," Fiona called out from her seat. Jarrod started at her voice, looking to her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a small smile, walking over to where she was sitting, redoing up his buttons.

She motioned the half-eaten plate of food. "I was going to share a late night snack with you, but I'm afraid I ate most of it."

He sat down beside her, and grabbed a small cube of cheese. "So, it's a snack for me, and a meal for you?" he teased, popping the cube into his mouth.

She laughed, and his heart filled with warmth.

"How is your court coming along?" Jarrod asked, selecting one of the few strawberries left behind.

Fiona hid a frown. She had half-expected him to guess her intentions and do… something. Play up their attraction. Offer some small innuendoes. Frankly, this talk of work was disappointing to say the least.

"It's marvellous," she said. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I can't thank you enough."

He picked up her hand, and ran his lips over it. She was smiling so hard, her cheeks were starting to ache.

It was almost perfect. The only thing ruining the moment was the fact that her toes were starting to get cold. Freezing, in fact. She tucked one of them into the crook of her knee, but all that was doing was making her knee cold.

Glancing down at Fiona's awkward position, Jarrod raised an eyebrow at her. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

She gave him a sheepish grin. "My feet are cold."

Jarrod patted his thigh. "Put it here. I can try and rub some warmth into it."

Fiona hesitated, but the numbness in her toes and the brandy she had drunk had made her bold. She placed her foot in his lap.

"Oh!" she cried out involuntarily as his hands touched her chilled flesh. He was so warm! She put her hands behind her back and braced herself on them. Her skin was turning pleasantly pink under his ministrations and she could feel her toes again. She took her first foot off and put her second one up.

She could get used to this.

"Get used to what?" Jarrod asked, making Fiona realise that she had murmured her last thought out loud.

"This," Fiona sighed as Jarrod's hands slid up and began to massage her calf. It felt so good, and Fiona suddenly got the sneaking suspicion that she was being seduced, not the other way around.

As he rubbed her muscles, he told her stories of antics he and his brothers did when they were younger.

"You didn't!" she exclaimed as he told her about the time they dipped their governess' blonde tresses in ink.

"Oh yes," he said laughing. "Father was furious! Made us scrub the entire hall by ourselves."

Fiona laughed as well, which turned into a yawn. She tried to stifle it, but Jarrod saw and jumped to his feet. He pulled her to her feet as well.

"This has been great," Jarrod said, running a finger down her cheek, "but you should get to bed."

"What? But I'm not tired," Fiona protested.

"Then why are you yawning, darling?" he asked, smiling and chucking her under the chin.

Fiona frowned. This wasn't going as she had planned at all. There was only one way to remedy the solution. She leaned up and kissed him.

**(A/N: Umm, it pretty much starts here, so just replaced the next part with 'They made love.' and you can hit the back button or the review button, or whatever button you'd like. Thank you for your cooperation.)**

Jarrod hadn't been prepared for her sudden assault on his senses. Her mouth was smooth and soft, and she tasted of strawberries. He stood still, shocked for a moment, but then her hands went to his shoulder blades, and her tongue sneaked out to lick his lip.

He growled and leaned into her kiss. His hands snaked around her, grabbing her behind, pulling her tight against him. She gasped and groaned, one of her hands moving to the back of his neck, sliding up through the thick blond hair on the back of his head.

Her mouth opened up under his, and his tongue began to explore the sweet cavern. Her hands curled in his hair, holding him closer to her. He broke the kiss, pressing his lips up her jawline.

Her hands moved to her hair.

"Wait," he murmured, bringing his own hands up. This was the moment he had been dreaming about. He had to do this properly.

Fiona stayed silent as he slowly plucked all the pins from her hair until it fell out of its bun, curling slightly, down her back. He ran his fingers through it, some other pins falling to the floor softly, before throwing the rest beside them. A couple clattered as they hit the fruit plate, but Fiona didn't notice. She moaned as her scalp tingled from being in the tight bun for so long.

"I've been imagining doing this since I met you," he said huskily, running his fingers over her head, drawing the tresses to the front of her face. It was the perfect length, the beautiful russet waves curling slightly at ends, falling to just above her waist. "I've always wondered why you've kept it up."

"It keeps it out of my way," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

He gave her a slow look over, his gaze causing tingles that ran through her extremities. "Perhaps, but I think it's more for the protection of the other men."

"Surely, you mean protection _from_," she replied, confused.

He shook his head slowly, his brown eyes filled with warmth. "No, of." His voice dropped to a whisper and he dragged a lock of her hair over his lips. "I'd have to kill any man who saw you like this."

The shake in Fiona's voice went to her knees. "I haven't exactly been a magnet for male attraction," she protested softly, but his words made her insides glow with happiness.

"Which just goes to prove my point," Jarrod said with a lazy smile. "This," -he gave her hair a tug- "has been locked up in a bun since you were, what, sixteen?"

"Twelve," she whispered.

"It's a good thing," he said, smelling the lavender goodness that was her hair. "Someone would have snatched you up long ago. If you had let down your hair, you would have never been mine."

"It's just hair," Fiona said. She curled her hands in his shirt.

"You're right," Jarrod said, dropping her hair, and moving his hand to her jaw. "On anyone else, it wouldn't be nearly so intoxicating. It must be you." He drew her up to him, until his lips just touched hers. "Only you."

He kissed her until all her insides were liquid, and she was sure that she wouldn't be able to support herself any longer.

But suddenly he stopped. He stopped and cupped her face in his hands, gazing at her intently. She met his brown eyes with slightly worried look.

"What?" she whispered, her hands bunching themselves in his shirt nervously.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked softly, drawing his thumb across her cheek.

A slow smile crossed Fiona's face. "Absolutely," she said, and drew his head back down to hers.

"Oh good," he sighed, almost making Fiona giggle. It was such a strange feeling, this married love. He pushed her wrapper off her shoulders, and she compromised by dragging his shirt out of his pants.

Her breath caught in her throat as his large hands slid up her ribcage. He was making her silk nightgown slid against her skin, sending the most delicious tingles down her spine. She gasped his name into his mouth as his knuckles brushed the underside of her breasts.

Her fingers suddenly became less nimble, which was perfectly alright, considering she could barely think straight through the passionate haze in her mind.

"Off," she murmured, trying unsuccessfully to navigate Jarrod's buttons.

He chuckled and separated himself from her long enough to pull his shirt over his head and fling it to some corner of the room that Fiona didn't care to follow. She hummed appreciatively, resting her fingers lightly on the springy hairs of his chest. She wanted to follow the line of hair where it thickened and disappeared into the waistband of his pants.

_Dangerous thoughts_, she chided herself. But her entire train of thought collapsed when his hand stole over her breast, cupping the soft weight in his hand. She might as well have been naked for all the covering the thin nightgown gave her.

Why had she been denying herself this for so long? She gasped and her fingers dug into his shoulders as his thumb brushed over her taut nipple with enough audacity to assure her that her had done it purposely. His lips slid down her neck until they reached her collarbone. Nipping lightly at the protruding bone, he licked the hollow softly.

Fiona's hands moved up into his hair, the silky strands standing up between her fingers like rushes. She murmured something that vaguely resembled his name as his teeth caught the right sleeve of her nightgown and pulled it off her shoulder. His lips followed the silk, trailing kisses over the rounded ivory of her skin.

Jarrod was putting her senses on overload, and before she knew it, she felt a tugging on her hips and her nightgown lay in a pool at her feet.

"Beautiful," Jarrod said softly.

Fiona beamed, then realised she was absolutely, totally _naked_.

"Graaack!" Unfortunately, the first thing out of her mouth wasn't completely coherent.

Jarrod soon showed her the advantages of being naked. His lips slid over her shoulder, down to her breast. Fiona squeaked, then moaned as his lips closed over the hardened nipple. He held it in his teeth, flicking his tongue over the nub, causing sparks through her blood. He switched to the other breast, submitting it to the same glorious torture as the first. Fiona was gasping; her hands locked in Jarrod's flaxen locks, trying to keep standing on her badly shaking knees.

She almost collapsed, though, when Jarrod's hand slid up her thigh to cup her heat. Her thighs instinctively locked together. A husky groan tore itself from her throat as she pressed herself into his hand.

Then he touched her. He touched her so softly, so intimately, she was surprised she didn't just fly out of her skin.

"Oh, god, Jarrod," she cried, her fingers digging into his head. He smiled around her nipple, then removed his hand from her most private place. She moaned her disappointment.

He laid her down on the bed almost reverently, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw.

"Jarrod," she said softly, becoming slightly nervous now that they were horizontal. "I want to warn you."

He stopped kissing her long enough to give her a quizzical look. "Yes?"

She bit her lower lip. "I didn't actually have a wedding night talk with my sisters."

He smiled. "Is that all?" His smile stretched into a seductive grin. "I thought I was teaching you rather well."

To Fiona's horror, she found herself blushing. "Yes, but I don't want to do anything wrong." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I just want to please you."

His eyes darkened with passion. "Fiona, I don't think anything you can do will displease me." His lips claimed hers again, and she responded fully, arching into him and meeting his passion with fervour of her own.

With some difficulty, Jarrod managed to strip out of his remaining clothes, and position himself between his wife's legs. Her expression was wary, but trusting. His lips pressed into her temple, before sliding over her eyebrow. He wanted her so much, but he didn't want to frighten her.

He took a deep breath as he touched himself to her entrance. She was slick and ready for him, and he all he wanted to do was thrust into her and make her his.

"Holy… You're big," Fiona whispered to him.

He smiled. "Do you know that's what every man wishes to hear?"

"It does seem the sort of thing you men would brag about," she blurted out, "while comparing how many horses you have and the biggest buck you've ever killed, and generally being competitive for no reason." She bit her lip again, horrified at what she had said.

Jarrod couldn't help it. He began to laugh. His mirth echoed through the room and in Fiona's heart.

Still chuckling, he leaned down and touched noses with his wife, sighing, "Whatever did I do to deserve you?"

"Nothing, I hope," she replied.

"You hope?"

Fiona nibbled on the inside of her cheek. "It's just… if you did something to deserve me, then I must have done something to deserve you, and I can't think for the life of me of what that would be."

With a groan, Jarrod kissed her. He tried to express with his lips and his hands what his heart was feeling, what his mind was too scared to say. Fiona gave herself to him gratefully, her fingers sliding over the muscles of his back.

Fiona was sure she wouldn't be able to last much longer. The pressure was getting far too intense, and she was sure that it was only a matter of seconds before she burst into flames. Or evaporate completely. Or maybe just explode.

When he put himself against her, she was lost. She knew that when it was over, when she could again think and reason, she would be Fiona again, but right now, she was his. One sharp thrust, partly his, partly hers, and he was inside her, filling her so completely, she scarce dared to breathe.

"Oh, Jarrod," she gasped. "I don't want this to end."

"End?" he said huskily, a smile in his voice. "Darling, we've barely begun."

He began to move.

With a gasp, she began to move with him, her legs snaking around his hips, holding him to her. They weren't graceful; they didn't move as one, and the sounds from their mouths weren't musical or lovely. They moved with utter abandon, both trying to reach some distant goal, both driving the other one on.

Fiona was close; she knew it. She was riding on the edge of pain, her pleasure was so fierce. One hand was clutching his back, the other was grasping the sheets, the material fisted in her hand so hard her knuckles were white, her elbow locked. Her lip drew back in almost a snarl as she tried to fall over the edge, tried to achieve whatever release the pressure was building to.

Jarrod lifted her hips in his hands, and perhaps it changed the way he was rubbing her, or perhaps she had just reached her limit, for with a strangled cry, all her nerves shattered. She arched up to meet him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, as her fingers scraped down his back. She screamed into his flesh, half-begging for it to stop, half pleading for it to go on forever.

The feeling of her clenching around him was too much. He buried himself inside her, grunting harshly. They shook together in the final throws of their lovemaking, until they fell down to the bed, the only sounds their beating hearts and their heavy breathing.

Murmuring something about being too heavy for her, Jarrod moved over to one side of the bed. Fiona snuggled up to him, ignoring the fact that he was sweaty, and he laid his arm over her waist, drawing her closer.

"Well?" he murmured, brushing her damp bangs off her face.

"You have to ask?" Fiona asked, her voice languid.

"That's good," he said with a smile, pulling the covers up over them. "Why did you come to me tonight?"

"Wanted to," she said tiredly with a yawn, snuggling further into his chest.

_Wanted to._ The words echoed in his mind, and he couldn't help the tired grin that stretched across his face. His grip tightened on her, he was almost asleep when his wife spoke up.

"Mmm… Love you," she murmured.

_I love you too,_ Jarrod thought suddenly. _God help me, I love you too._


	28. Thorns

Wow. This story is almost finished. I'm thinking it's only going to be thirty chapters in total, and I want to try and get the last two up before I leave on the 24th.

**Tiger Lily21:** I've been waiting for it forever as well. They're so... yay! Now just to tie up some loose ends, and they'll be on their way to a happily ever after. Thanks for the explanation. I had forgotten about that particular tale. Oh, I can't just write one story at a time either. I just only _post_ one story at a time. I have about twenty unfinished stories that I go back to once and a while, just to get over some writers block or whatever.

**cathrin face:** I'm not going to butcher the German language by trying to say you're welcome, but, you're welcome.

**trillian225:** I'm glad to have made your week. Good stuff aplenty.

**livingdead2010:** It's okay. I'm glad that you like it.

**panemonium:** No, your ears did not deceive you. ((le sigh)) Hopefully, it's explained a bit in the first part of this chapter. Warren's still out in Tolaro. He'll be back soon, I promise.

**HolmesIsMyHomie:** I'm glad to have put a smile on your face.

**Glitterpoison:** Thank you! Sweetness all around!

**Aiden-Rae:** I'm so glad that you like my story. It's perfectly okay that you don't write (although, I think anyone can write), editors are just as important as the writers themselves. Yay for fluff!

**rebeka13:** thanks.

**little miss tiny shoes:** I'm glad you enjoyed that. Writing it was actually harder than I thought it would be. Having little or no experience myself, I was trying to make it as natural as possible without making it graphic. Deep dark secret alert!

**Akwyn:** No problem. Thanks for the compliments. Jarrod is going to have to be honest with his proper wife. Poor Jarrod. He might need some liquid courage of his own.

**letylyf:** Thanks. I'm glad it fit in with the rest of the story. I hate it when I'm reading a good novel, but then they get to the love scenes and become little love-making atomitons, who don't act a thing like their original characters. Fie on them. I have a friend who was playing 'Fear Factor' at a church thingy, and he had to eat raw snails. I nearly puked just watching him. Ew.

**MissaLissa: **Woot! I got mad props! I'm glad the love scene sat well with you, I was actually very nervous about posting it. They are perfect for each other. That's why they're so in love. And Jarrod will admit it to her one of these days.

**monkeys-and-bananas76:** 'Kay. Will do.

**cokefizz-and-chocolate:** It's okay. I know you were waiting for it. (haha, just kidding. XcD) No, not the can of whoop! Here! Take this chapter! (And, if those are white chip macadamia nut cookies, fricken HAND EM OVER!)

**Lady Keshanna of the Night:** Well, at first he was afraid of getting his heart broken again, like when Belinda cheated on him. But now, it's more like he's afraid taht when Fiona finds out about his 'big secret', she'll reject him, and he doesn't want that pain.

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** Here you go! Jarrod's big secret, although, personally, I don't think it's a big deal. But, it didn't happen to me, so. Haha, I actually read a little something like that in another book, (just the 'You're big' and 'man wants to hear' part) and I thought, I would want to take the guy down a couple of pegs and that just popped into my head. I tweaked it a little bit to make it more Fiona and less me, but I still think it fits.

**Sirenic Griffin:** Well, I can assure you that the next chapter (after this one) will be to your taste. Action romance galore. Or, if not galore, then at least apparent.

**Drew:** Thanks man. Was it awkward in writing, or awkward as in you'd never think anyone would say that ever? Oh, and how did the party go?

**Glaze:** Thanks. I'm glad that the love scene was good. Not too much foreshadowing, but lots of confessions and loving. Yay! My sister tried so hard not to cry while reading it, and afterwards, she had to phone one of her friends to talk it over, just to see if they could figure out what was coming next, and if S. really planned that, or if D. just told him to do it, and stuff.

**iridescent mists:** Inner demons make love interesting. My characters just seem to get more and more conflicted as I write more stories. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

**awaiting impatient person:** I'm glad you love it! The world may never know. Jarrod's a bit of a secretive person. But Fiona'll beat it out of him one day.

**Calliope Mused:** Yeah, they were starting to get rather difficult, weren't they? I guess we should all be glad that Rachel tried once again to proposition Jarrod.

**fatal fantasies:** Thank you. I always have a bit of trouble with names, making them up and such.

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** I'm glad you liked that. I like the fashion line, personally. More plot ahead, don't you worry! And, just for you to know, my next story is going to be based (extremely vaguely) off of 'The Little Mermaid.' I can't wait for it.

I have to go, but I really wanted to get this up! Only two more chapters to go!

See you next Saturday!

-Lulai

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Thorns

Jarrod watched his wife sleep. He almost didn't believe that she was his. It was obvious she wanted it, and even more obvious that she enjoyed it, even if only by the bruises he would certainly have on his shoulder blades. And there was no question at all that he enjoyed it.

But there was her declaration of love. Although it stirred his heart, he couldn't believe in it. She didn't know the deepest secret of his soul. And if she found that out, she couldn't love him. He knew. She wouldn't understand. She was goodness and light.

He would have to be honest with her.

The thought scared him to death. He couldn't stand to be seen as any less of a man in her eyes, but his conscience was telling him that he couldn't accept her love under any false pretences either.

He would tell her. And, if she wanted, he would let her go. He owed her that much. Hell, he loved her that much.

Fiona sighed in her sleep, shifting in his arms and tossing a leg over his. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of her hair. He would be selfish for this one night, and at least pretend that she could care for him, that he was worthy of her.

With that thought in mind, he rested his cheek against the top of her head and fell asleep.

…

Fiona was trying to finish a baby blanket for Bernadette's new daughter Evelyn, but her mind was a million places, and she kept mixing up her knits and pearls, and after picking out an entire row, realised she would have to go talk to Jarrod before she died of curiosity.

It was very strange. They hadn't argued at all; in fact, their morning together had been one of the best she had had. After getting dressed, the couple made their way out into the neat little patch of forest west of the castle. The forest was wet from the rain the night before, but it seemed to have let up for the morning, even if there was still a grey covering of clouds. Strolling the well-marked paths, they talked and teased each other, but Jarrod hadn't done anything… out of the proprieties.

Did he regret last night? She refused to believe that he had lost interest in her now that she had given herself to him, but did he think her too forward? Did he lump her in the same category as Rachel Fer Grenalda?

Whatever the reason, when she went to her court, he locked himself in his study and refused to see anyone, even his brother.

Tyrell ate dinner with her, but without Jarrod, she was acutely lonely. To make matters worse, Tyrell kept shooting her pitying glances, making her want to do nothing so much as bury her face in her mashed potatoes.

Fiona sighed and put her knitting down. She was probably going to have to go and beat some sense into that thick skull of her husband's. When was he going to realise that being married meant sharing one's problems?

She stood out of the white wicker chair. The sun was dying anyway, so there was no more real use for the solarium that night, as it was not equipped with torch brackets.

She straightened her emerald skirts, making sure that all the wrinkles were out, and adjusted the bodice before exiting the room.

Pausing right before her husband's door, she put a hand to her hair, and gave a small sly smile to herself before pulling out all the pins. She pulled the hair at her temples back from her face and tied them behind her with a ribbon she had attached to her wrist for just such a purpose. She wasn't about to seduce her husband, but after learning last night that he liked her hair down, she resolved to wear it like that more often. Giving the pins to a maid, she instructed her to put them in her room.

It was a new sensation for her to feel her hair around her shoulders, but the past little while had been one big new sensation, so it was no big deal. Except now she didn't even know if she was going to feel any of those sensations again. A frown marred her brow.

Taking a deep breath, Fiona burst into her husband's study without bothering to knock first.

Jarrod looked up from where he was hunched over his desk, scribbling notes on a particular treaty. His coat was off and his cravat untied, the first few buttons of his shirt undone. His hair looked quite tousled as if he had repeatedly run his fingers through it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He seemed generally confused.

For some reason, his question infuriated her. "What am I doing here?" she nearly shrieked, throwing her hands into the air. "Maybe it's because my husband has been holed up in here all afternoon, and most of the evening, and I had to eat dinner _alone_, well, maybe not alone, Tyrell was with me, but he kept giving me these _looks_, and I couldn't figure out why after such a… a… _pleasant_ evening we had last night, you haven't even tried to do… _anything_, and I'm drowning in worry and self-consciousness, and I don't even know _why_!" She finally ran out of breath and had to stop. Propping one hand on her hip, she pressed a fist into her forehead, trying to control the pressure that was threatening to burst out her closed eyes.

Jarrod stood halfway through her tirade and had made his way over to her side.

"Was it something I did?" she whispered brokenly. "Was I too… forward?"

"God, no, Fiona," Jarrod said, taking her fingers in his, tugging her hands away from where they were resting. "Last night was perfect; you were perfect."

"Then what happened? Jarrod, I have to know." She looked up at him, her big blue-green eyes shiny with unshed tears.

He sighed and let go of her hands to rest a hip against the desk. In absence of his warm fingers, Fiona's hands grasped each other until her knuckles were white.

"Do remember anything at all from last night?" he said softly.

A bright blush flew into her cheeks, signalling that she remembered very well indeed. "Yes," she mumbled.

"After that," he said, with a wry smile.

"You asked me why I came to you," she said, still red. "I said I wanted to."

"After that."

Fiona frowned. She hadn't said anything after that. She had only thought…

Oh, god, what if she had spoken out loud? "That I loved you," she said softly.

He stiffened slightly, and Fiona could tell that she was correct.

"Yes," he said, his voice sounding weary.

"What's wrong with that? I do love you," Fiona repeated, determined to brazen it out, although inside her heart was breaking. He didn't love her, or else he wouldn't be so upset about her loving him.

"What's wrong with it is that I'm not the man you think you married." He put his hands beside him, gripping the edge of the desk.

"What?" Fiona asked, utterly puzzled. "I know exactly whom I married. You're kind, and thoughtful, and handsome, and caring, and a million other things that I love about you."

He shook his head, moving to stare out the window, crossing his arms over his chest. "I wish you wouldn't say that," he whispered.

"What?" Fiona's hands went back to her hips. "That I love you? Why? I do." She blinked back tears, determined not to cry.

He looked at her, his expression optimistically tender. "Because after I tell you what I've been dreading to tell you, you'll want to take it back… and I won't want to let you."

Hope blossomed in Fiona's chest until it almost restricted her breathing. He wanted her love, he just said as much. "Tell me what?" she asked softly, taking a step towards him, her arms dropping to her sides.

"You deserve to know the truth, the whole truth," he admitted, almost to himself.

This was it. The thorn in his heart.

"Then tell me," she whispered, taking another step towards him. She wanted to do nothing but take him in her arms and erase the pain in his eyes, but she knew that Jarrod wouldn't want to be coddled at a time like this.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?" she whispered.

He looked her in the eyes and the sheer agony in there nearly broke Fiona's heart. "Of losing you."

She wanted to rush forward and say something comforting like _You'll never lose me_ or _I'll always love you_, but she couldn't lie to him. "You might if you don't tell me," she stated quietly. It wasn't an ultimatum, just the truth.

He nodded softly, understanding, then turned back to the window as if the answers to all his problems lay somewhere on the other side of the glass. He was silent for so long, but Fiona didn't press him, knowing that he was gathering his courage.

"I told you about Belinda," he said abruptly, startling her. She nodded, even though his back was to her, and he probably couldn't see. "Well, I didn't tell you the entire truth. It's true, I was engaged to her, and I did catch her with another man in the stables, but it wasn't just any stableman. It was… my brother, Marcus."

"Oh my god," Fiona said, unable to stop the words from flying from her lips. Her hand came up to her mouth as she sunk down into one of the chairs in front of his desk. Marcus? Jarrod's idol? No wonder Jarrod was hurt so deeply. How much betrayal had he gone through?

He smiled, but there was no humour in it at all. "In a final twist of irony, we were at her townhouse celebrating our impending marriage. Apparently, the party wasn't entertaining enough for either of them. As I suddenly found it disparaging myself, and left to find better company… mostly from the bottom of a bottle."

Fiona nodded, clasping her hands in front of her. She didn't say anything for fear of interrupting the words that were flowing from her husband's mouth.

"If only I hadn't gone out, or had come back earlier, things might have been different, but in any case, by the time I came back, the entire house was in flames. Belinda was outside screaming, but none of _my_ family had made it out. Let me tell you, nothing sobers you as much as the thought of your family in danger. I rushed in and managed to find Tyrell, knocked unconscious by a falling bookshelf. I carried him outside. Warren had managed to stumble out as well."

Here, he paused in his narration, and Fiona leaned forward slightly. So far, she hadn't found anything damning in his testimony. In fact, she was mostly in awe of his heroism. He had risked his own life to save his brother's.

"I turned back towards the house, but I… hesitated." His arms dropped and his hands fisted at his sides. "All I could think about," he continued harshly, "was how much Marcus had hurt me, and for a fleeting second, I considered leaving him in there. That second was all it took, for a moment later, the entire entrance way collapsed, and I couldn't find another way in."

Fiona bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears again. She couldn't imagine what kind of suffering her he had gone through. She lost her parents, yes, but to lose both her parents and her siblings? Horrible.

"And?" Fiona prodded gently when he didn't continue.

Jarrod's attention snapped from his memorisation of the landscape to her. "Didn't you hear what I said? I hesitated. If I hadn't, I might have been able to rescue Marcus. But, like the selfish bastard I am, I thought only of myself, how much pain and hurt and anger I felt, and I hesitated. I practically killed my family."

Fiona rose. "It was a natural reaction. Jarrod, you can't blame yourself. You were just betrayed by the two people who were supposed to be closest to you." She walked over to him. "And while I'm sorry that you lost your family, and believe me when I say I'm sorry, I can't help but feel a little glad that you hesitated."

Jarrod jerked back, surprise highlighting his features. "What?"

She stood before him, her eyes capturing his. "You said yourself that the entrance collapsed just a moment after you hesitated. Had you not, you would have been crushed, or at the very least, trapped, and then I wouldn't have met you."

He shook his head. "I would have found a way out," he protested stubbornly.

Fiona took his face in her hands, trying to make him understand. "If neither brother nor your father couldn't find a way out, what makes you so sure you could? You, Jarrod, are human. You make mistakes. You hurt. And, although you'd like to deny it, sometimes you are driven by emotion. No one could blame you for that. No one but yourself does."

He pulled her hands away from his face, but continued to hold on to them tightly.

"It doesn't matter. I still should have tried. The truth of the matter is that I killed my family as surely as if I shot them all myself."

"They were not killed," Fiona protested. "They died in a terrible accident. You are no more to blame than I am. Murder and accidental death are not equal."

"The results are the same, aren't they?" Jarrod said bitterly, dropping her hands and turning to the window. Even though the morning had looked promising, apparently, the clouds weren't finished. Rain pelted the windows in sheets.

"Then you have some more crimes on your hands," Fiona said matter-of-factly.

Jarrod turned to her, a question in his eyes.

"You raped me."

Fiona had never seen the blood drain from a person's face, but that was really the only way to describe the sudden blanching of Jarrod's. "_What?_"

She shrugged. "I'm no longer a virgin, and by your reasoning, that means you raped me, because rape and lovemaking have the same results, right?"

Relief swept his features before his face became an angry mask again. His eyes narrowed, and his arms came up to cross his chest.

"You're trying to banish my guilt with rhetoric. It won't work."

Fiona laid a hand on his arm and was surprised to feel how tense his muscles were. "I'm not trying to banish it. I'm merely trying to soften it. I'm trying to help you lighten your burden, to share it with me."

He took her hands again. "I'm not sure if I can."

"Just try," she said, squeezing his fingers. "I'll do whatever I can to help you."

"Why?" he whispered, searching her eyes for something. Censure, absolution, or maybe just a simple promise.

"Because you helped me," she said, putting every ounce of feeling she had in her eyes and her voice. "Because you believed in me when no one else did, even myself. Because you defended me to both my own family and to strangers. Because you're _you_. My husband, my Jarrod, my love."

He pulled her to him, and brought his mouth down on hers savagely.

"Let me help you," she said between kisses, tracing her fingers over his beloved features.

"Love me," he rasped in her ear, running his fingers through her hair, dislodging the ribbon. "Just love me."

She pulled his head down to hers. She did love him, there was no question about that.

But did he love her back?


	29. Betrayal

Here it is guys. This is the end. In honour of all your generosity and support and the fact I have over **_400!_** reviews, I decided to post the last chapter up today as well. It's a little short, anyway. I hope that you'll all venture over to my next story, which will be vaguely based off 'The Little Mermaid.' You might see some familiar characters.

**Tiger Lily21: **Ah, you'll find out soon enough. I don't think it's possible for me to end a story without at least _someone_ getting together. That's pretty much against my writing religion. I'm a hopeless romantic at heart. I'm glad you're thinking of redoing Jemima. I completely enjoyed that story. I hope you don't change it too much, but I'm sure whatever you do, it will be to the better.

**HolmesismyHomie:** Don't worry. I find myself doing that to.

**cokefizz-and-chocolate:** I hope you didn't faint or anything. That would be horrible. yay! ((hordes cookies)) ((jams cookies into mouth))

**CalliopeMused:** No problemo.

**monkeys-and-bananas76:** It was more Fiona's thinking it, and it was just a passing thought. Honestly, I just thought that that would be a nice line to end the chapter on.

**letylyf:** Yeah. He just had it worked up in his mind that him leaving his brother was equal to the mass murder of a town of children. You'll find out the assassin soon enough.

**little miss tiny shoes:** Hee hee. I love how you said 'pesky business.' I just found that really funny.

**panemonium:** Last two chapters! ((tear)) It is sad, but I already have the characters in my head for my next story. I wonder if it will turn out even longer than this.

**livingdead2010:** okay!

**rainkisser:** First of all, thank you for the great review. As much as I love the supportive ones (and I do love them!) it's the ego balloon poppers that are really useful. First off, the whole Jarrod's, er, enhancement was more a point towards Fiona's innocence than anything else. I imagine she was nervous, and I tried to come up with something suitably naive and such. I'm sorry the whole secret disappointed you. I never like to disappoint readers. I seriously thought that thing over like twenty times. At first I wanted Jarrod to light the fire somehow, through carelessness or something, but then I couldn't think of how the castle (which is made of stone) could burn down. Then I thought that Jarrod could actually _kill_ Marcus for whatever reason, but then I couldn't figure a way out of the subsequent murder charge. As for having Marcus try and kill Jarrod and the whole self-defense thing,Jarrod would have understood that. But now that you've given me a couple ideas, I might go and change it, one day, when I'm having a severe writers block in another story. Honestly, I like keeping my stories up, mistakes and all, because then I can see what I can do better. That's why I don't go and redo Beau, even though I cringe every time I read it. Thank you very very much for all the great stuff you do. I hope you don't hate me now.

**Akwyn:** Ah. The faults of my characters. They're both a little muddled. Don't worry, they'll straighten out with time.

**wishingIcouldthinkofsomething:** I think that if you all took time out of your schedual to read my story, the least I could do is try and make it consistant, or at least warn you if it's not. Yeah Marcus and Belinda were fairly obvious. I think Jarrod said in one of the first chapters that it was pretty much apparent to everyone but him.

**kyliegirlie:** Thank you.

**Areida Rivers:** Jarrod's stubbornness is only matched by a river grinding through a mountain and Fiona. Perhaps we'll see some of the characters in another story. ((wink wink))

**Phillipa of the Phoenix:** But isn't that usually how it is? We think we've done something absolutely terrible, and the person next to us is like, meh. Yup, the Little Mermaid.

**Aiden-Rae:** Yeah. Thanks!

**Charlie Hazel:** Aw. Today you can look down and find an arrow to the next chapter! Yay!

**Glitterpoison:** Marcus was a cad in all sense of the word. So was Belinda. Thank you.

**Drew:** That's good. I wanted to come, but I had to work. I wanted that at first too, but I couldn't think how I would be able to make him light the fire, without it seeming completely accidental.

**awaiting impatient person:** HOORAY FOR FLUFF! It's like a shot of icing sugar into the veins for me. As a side note, on Fiona's little tirade, she had to run out of breath, right? So I was actually acting it outloud to see if it was long enough (or too long for that matter) for someone to say in one breath. My sister kept sending me strange glances. I am going to my cousin's wedding in Manitoba Canada (I live in BC Canada) and we're coming back through Edmonton and going to the West Edmonton Mall, which is like a HUGE shopping mall, complete with ice ring, theme park, a huge cinaplex, and water park. Like, fun compacted into a mall.

I hope you've all enjoy most of my story. I also hope that you might read my next one.

/shameless plug

-Lulai

Chapter Twenty Nine: Betrayal

The next week that went by was by far the best week Fiona had ever had. She didn't know how to explain it. She was simply… happy. Deliriously happy. Her court was doing superbly. She had even found a few friends of the female persuasion who lived in town who were much kinder than the Grenaldas. The attacks on her had seemed to stop after the failed attempt to assassinate her that night (although Jarrod still insisted that she have two guards with her at all times). Warren had come home after a successful trip to Tolaro, and the entire castle had thrown a splendid dinner party for him.

And her husband. Oh, her husband. It wouldn't be an exaggeration by any means of the imagination to say that they probably spent more time in bed than out. Though he had yet to say that he loved her, she could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. But Fiona was no longer worried. Jarrod was cautious, but he would say it one day, she was certain.

But the height of her life up to that point came the next night when she walked into their bedroom. Taking the place of the high-canopied gold and red eyesore that was their bed was a tasteful piece of furniture with tall intricately carved walnut posts. The bedspread was a tasteful quilt made from soothing butter yellows, bronzes, and maroons.

She almost thought she had walked into the wrong room. She took a look around, but nothing else had changed. The hideous tapestries still hung on the wall. The horrendous carpet still covered the floor.

"Do you like it?" Jarrod asked softly from behind her.

"Like it?" Fiona said, a smile creeping across her face. "I love it."

His arms slid around her waist as his lips found her neck. Fiona crossed her arms and grabbed his forearms, securing his hold on her. "I especially liked the colours used. You should decorate the entire room this way."

She could feel rather than see the smile that crossed his face. "I thought I would take small steps."

Turning in his arms, Fiona hooked her hands behind his neck. "Well, the bed is lovely. The perfect first step."

His smile stretched into a wicked grin.

"Want to help me christen it?"

Fiona's fingers were already at his cravat, undoing the neat folds. "I thought you'd never ask."

…

Jarrod sat at his desk, but the last thing on his mind was his paperwork. He hadn't stopped smiling since earlier that morning. He had left his wife in their new bed, looking rumpled and warm, still sleeping. She deserved it after how long he kept her up the night before.

Even so, he had been hard pressed to not just climb back in and join her, but he knew he had to get some amount of work done. Including the finishing of the Royal Chambers. He couldn't believe that it had taken him that long to change it.

It was all his wife's doing. Fiona had come into his life in her charming, naïve, outspoken, loyal, loving way and shaken him up. She accepted him and all his flaws just as he accepted hers. She had taken the burden of his guilt off his shoulders and loved him regardless. And right now, she was probably lying in bed, looking quite delectable.

With that thought firmly in mind, he stood from his desk, determined to show her just how much he appreciated her for the second time that morning.

He opened the door quickly, shocking Warren who had his fist raised as if to knock.

"I'm sorry to have interrupted you, Jarrod," Warren apologised, straightening his jacket.

"There's no need. I was just… leaving anyway," Jarrod said.

Warren nodded. "Could I talk to you a minute? This is extremely important."

Jarrod nodded, and motioned his cousin inside. Resisting the urge to sigh, he made his way back to his desk. Fiona was not one to lie abed in the morning, and he might have missed his chance. Oh well. There was no reason he couldn't drag her back.

He raised an eyebrow at his cousin, who stood, looking very uncomfortable. "Well?" Jarrod asked finally. "What did you want to tell me?"

He took a deep breath, an extremely nervous look on his face.

"I think I know who's trying to kill you," Warren said in a rush of air.

Jarrod stood up straight from where he had been leaning against the polished oak of his desk. "What?"

"I think I know who's trying to kill you," Warren repeated slower.

"Who?"

At this, his cousin's countenance seemed to collapse in on itself. "Your brother, Tyrell," he said softly, sadly.

"Tyrell?" Jarrod scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't believe it for an instant. Why would you think something like that?"

"I've been watching him," Warren said. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his jacket nervously. "I believe he and your wife have been… well, having relations."

Jarrod shook his head firmly. "No," he said. He didn't believe _that_ for an instant. Fiona wouldn't be unfaithful to him. He had absolute trust in her.

"Jarrod," Warren sighed, "I saw them in the woods together just a few minutes ago. That's when I knew I had to come to you."

"I'm sure you just misunderstood their intentions," Jarrod said. "Shall I prove it to you?"

He strode out the door, Warren following him worryingly. They walked out together into the woods, until they couldn't even see the castle anymore. Jarrod decided that that was far enough.

"See?" Jarrod said, turning to his cousin. "There's no one-"

He didn't finish his sentence as the hilt of a sword came down over his head, rendering him unconscious.

…

Jarrod awoke with a groan. His head hurt like hell. That was it. He was never going to drink ever again. This was one of the worst hangovers ever.

But it didn't feel the same as a hangover. The pain seemed to radiate from a point on the back of his skull, instead of inside his head. Almost as if he had been hit…

His memory rushed back to him. He opened his eyes to find that he was tied, spread eagle, to the bed on the inside of a little cottage.

There was no one else in the room. Beams of light sifted in through the cracks of the one-roomed cottage, illuminating speckles of dust that shifted in the still air. A fine layer of grit lay over the sparse furnishings, a table, a chair, and the bed to which he was currently tied, indicating that no one had been in there in quite some time. Meaning that no one would probably just wander in at any moment, making it a perfect place to hold a victim.

_Perfect_, Jarrod thought ironically. He lay his head back down, the strain on his neck growing painful.

Apparently, his assailant had finally decided to go with a direct approach. By why wouldn't he have just killed Jarrod? Probably wanted to gloat.

That was their first mistake. At least now Jarrod had some time to think and plan. He was not going to depart dearly now, not now that he had found his love. He just hoped that Warren was in a similar state, and not lying face down in a ditch somewhere.

He began to work the ropes tied to his wrists. His daggers lay on a table on the other side of the room, and if he could just get his hands free…

The door swung open.

"Ah, I see you're awake," Warren said calmly, holding an inkwell and paper. "I was afraid that I had hit you too hard."

"_Warren_?" Jarrod asked, incredulously, as he ceased to struggle. "What? Why?"

"Ah, so many questions, dear cuz," Warren said mockingly, laying down the writing implements and picking up one of Jarrod's daggers. He looked nothing like the shy cousin that he knew. There was a gleam of madness in his eyes that made Jarrod pause.

"Perfectly legitimate questions," Jarrod replied, lifting his head slightly. "That is, if I am correct in assuming you are behind all the attacks on my wife and I."

"But of course," Warren said with a saucy grin, leaning back on the chair and twirling the dagger tip down on the table. "Both of you are either immortal, or extremely lucky to still be alive. Perhaps it was my mistake for hiring such incompetent fools." He sat up straight. "Speaking of such, I think it's time we invited your wife to join our little get-together."

"No," Jarrod said firmly. He was not going to drag Fiona into this.

"Oh, come now," Warren said, his eyes hardening. It made Jarrod wonder how he didn't see the evil in him for so long. Warren was a very good actor. "I'm being a gentleman here and allowing you to say goodbye to your wife in a proper fashion."

"Why do you have to bring Fiona into this at all?" Jarrod asked.

"Because when you die, the title and the fortune automatically are passed on to her and the child she could possible be carrying. Killing two birds with one stone and all that, cuz." Warren looked deadly serious, testing the edge of the dagger along his forefinger.

"Fine," Jarrod said, thinking quickly. "Untie me."

"What?"

Jarrod gave his cousin a scathing look. "Judging by the paper and ink you've brought, I assume you want me to write her a little note, possibly arranging a little tryst, at which you can bring her here and kill her along with me."

Warren looked absolutely furious at his plan being found out so quickly. But, he calmed the fire that spat out his eyes back into a calm façade. "You still haven't explained why I should cut your bonds," he said nonchalantly.

"My wife isn't stupid," Jarrod replied. "She knows my writing and would become extremely suspicious if it suddenly looked like chicken scratch." Of course, Jarrod would hope that she would become suspicious anyway.

"Very well," Warren acquiesced. He cut the bonds that held Jarrod's hands, but left the ones with his feet alone. "I must warn you, cuz, if I see anything I deem suspicious, this dagger will be in your chest faster than you can blink."

Jarrod shrugged. "Do you have something I can write on?" he replied smoothly.

Warren sneered, but tossed a heavy, dusty book onto Jarrod's lap. Jarrod grunted, but said nothing else. Handing him the quill and the parchment, he commanded shortly, "Write."

Jarrod wrote.

After he was done, he folded the letter and handed it to his cousin, who was standing in a bored position near the post of the bed. Warren took the letter and retied Jarrod's hands to the posts. Jarrod didn't resist, much. Warren read through the letter several times, probably looking for hidden messages, and finding it acceptable, handed to another man outside, one who was dressed in a manner of the kitchen staff.

Jarrod frowned. He hadn't noticed the other man. He might have to readjust his thinking.

"Why are you doing this Warren?" Jarrod asked him when Warren came back in.

Warren sat back down in the chair, and resumed his twirling of the dagger. He cast an almost friendly glance at his cousin. "Believe it or not, Jarrod, this actually isn't personal."

"I don't know how you can say that killing me and my wife isn't personal," Jarrod said with an edge to his voice.

"Well, maybe a little bit," Warren ceded, "but it's mostly about the title, and the money."

"She won't take you back," Jarrod told him softly.

The reaction was instantaneous. Warren's hand tightened on the dagger, forcing the point into the table, and his entire form went rigid, his eyes narrowing. "Don't say that," he hissed venomously.

"But it's true," Jarrod persisted. "Your mother's a selfish harridan, and you being king won't change that."

"No," Warren snapped, "but it'll sure as hell show her that I'm better than she thinks." He calmed again. "Besides. It's not just that I'll savour the look on her face when I take away everything from her the same way she took everything from me, but I think I'll enjoy being king."

Jarrod sighed and hoped his wife hurried.

…

Fiona couldn't find Jarrod anywhere. While it wasn't unusual for him to not be there when she awoke, usually she would find him in the breakfast room, or in his study, but that was not the case today. It was like he had disappeared.

She just hoped he didn't get into another one of his moods. He hadn't had one in a while, but one never knew.

What was unusual was that Fiona had scoured the entire castle without a trace of him. Fortunately, she had started to get used the two shadows that followed her constantly. She did have to wonder if they wondered if her husband was avoiding her. She sighed and decided to ask Tyrell if Jarrod had got into the city or something.

"Tyrell," she said, bursting into the library, where Tyrell stood, looking over a vague law. "Have you seen Jarrod?"

Tyrell looked up, amused. "No, but then again, I haven't seen you in a while either."

Fiona blushed at his implication, then frowned to cover it. "I haven't seen him all morning, and I can't find him anywhere."

"Yer majesty," Parkin said, detaching himself from the shadows and coming forward to her, "a message fer ye."

Fiona took the piece of parchment and unfolded it.

_My dearest Fifi,_ it started,

It would honour me greatly if you would join me for a walk in the forest. Please meet me privately by the bridge.

_Your adoring husband,_

_Jarrod_

Fiona stared at the letter, extremely suspicious. It was Jarrod's writing -she'd recognise the bold hand anywhere- but it definitely wasn't Jarrod's words.

"Perhaps that's where he's been all morning," Tyrell stated, reading the letter over her shoulder.

"I don't know," Fiona started slowly. "I don't like this." She tapped the parchment with a finger.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, he has never called me Fifi before. In fact, I don't think I've _ever_ been called Fifi. Second, he never signs any note to me 'Jarrod'. It's always just 'J'. And third, he's got me guarded at all times-" she waved a hand at her shadows- "and now he's asking me to meet him _alone_? That's not like him."

Tyrell's frown matched hers. "So why did he write this letter?"

Her brow furrowed in thought, then she gasped, her eyes widening. "What if he's been taken?" Of course! Why didn't she think of that this morning? Well, that was because she was trying very hard not to think of something that would scare her that much. "That would explain where he was this morning, and it would make sense why he wrote this letter."

"His captors probably also want you," Tyrell said, catching on. "They made Jarrod write this, and he put in all those mistakes so that you would know that it's a trap."

Fiona's hands grew clammy. "I have to go, Tyrell, they'll kill him if I don't."

Tyrell shook his head. "You can't fall for this. Jarrod sent this note so you'll be on your guard."

"But Jarrod will die if I don't!" Fiona protested. "Besides, I will be on my guard. I'll have my two guards with me, and I'll arm myself. I won't walk in there blindly. Don't you see? I have to rescue Jarrod!"

Tyrell agreed reluctantly. "You do know that Jarrod will kill me if you're so much as injured," he warned.

Fiona shook her head, giving him a small smile. "I'll be okay. And if I'm injured, I'll still protect you."

"Let me go find Warren while you get suited up," Tyrell said. "We'll all be behind you."

Fiona suddenly grabbed him in a hug, tears in her eyes. "He's lucky to have you as a brother."

Tyrell returned the hug fiercely. "No, he's lucky to have you as a wife."

A few minutes later, with two daggers strapped into her bodice, Fiona was ready to meet the person who was quite likely behind the attempts on both her and her husband's lives.

Fiona motioned Parkin and the other guard, Kinsley, forward.

"If it looks like they are going to kill me," she started, very pleased to hear that her voice wasn't shaking, "please, by all means, stop them. But, if it looks like they're going to take me to where ever they're holding Jarrod, let them. Do you both understand?"

They nodded, and she gave a sharp nod in return. She was glad that her dress hid her badly shaking knees.

She walked out into the forest region, acting as if she were merely going for an afternoon stroll. She eventually made it to the bridge, appearing nonchalant, although her heart felt like it was in her throat. She just hoped she wasn't too late.

"Jarrod?" she called out, feeling rather stupid, but wanting to play the part. Someone grabbed her from behind, and she struggled slightly.

Apparently, she was struggling harder than the assailant expected, for with a muttered curse, he hit her over the head with something that felt like a cross between a tree trunk and a mountain. It didn't knock her out, but it did leave her feeling quite nauseous, an affliction that wasn't helped when he stuffed her in a burlap bag and tossed her over his shoulder.

Fiona gritted her teeth and concentrated on keeping down the delicious breakfast that was vainly trying to crawl out of her throat. It didn't help that the daggers kept poking into her breasts either, but she ignored that as well, and tried to appear unconscious.

She was thrown onto a wooden surface, probably some sort of wagon. After a loud 'Yeah!' the wagon started forward with a lurch. Every bump in the road threw Fiona around, until she was sure that she was black and blue from head to toe.

She hoped that Parkin and Kinsley were having no problems following the fellow, but the wagon didn't seem to be moving too fast. She couldn't help but feel relieved that she wasn't on a horse.

The wagon lurched to a stop, throwing her against the front of it, and she had to bite her lip to keep back a cry of pain.

The man's boots crunched in the dirt as he walked around the wagon. She felt hands grab her around one thigh and an arm, then move so that they were both grabbing her waist. Muttering curses about her size, the thug hoisted her over his shoulder. She made herself become even more dead weight just to spite him.

"I got 'er," the man called out.

"Oh, good," a familiar voice answered. Fiona frowned, trying to place it. She heard a door open and close, and then the man was still. She forced herself to remain limp, and closed her eyes.

"Where do ye want 'er?" the man holding Fiona asked.

"Just throw her on the bed, I guess," the voice said. Fiona felt the burlap sack open and upturned, dumping her unceremoniously over a hard body.

She cracked her eyes open just enough to see that she was sprawled over her husband, who was apparently tied to the bed, and furious. His eyes were a menacing black, and directed all at the person behind her, who she unfortunately couldn't see. She let her head rest on his chest, one of her hands tucked under her on his stomach, and the other resting on his thigh. She was loosing the feeling in the fingers trapped between her and her husband, but she didn't want to move for fear of revealing herself.

"What did you do to my wife?" he snarled.

"I'm sure… er… what did you do to his wife, Bludger?" It was nagging at Fiona so bad that she almost turned around and looked.

"I just gave 'er a wee tap on tha noggin," whined the man. "I didna know that she'd go down so fast."

"He just hit her, that's all."

"I swear, if she doesn't wake up," Jarrod left the threat unfulfilled.

"What?" the voice sneered back. "You'll suddenly become untied from the bed?"

Fiona could feel his body tighten in rage, and she almost couldn't stand it. She gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze. His gaze flew to her, and she opened her eyes very slightly to wink at him.

"I can't say goodbye to my wife with her unconscious," Jarrod complained in such a plaintive tone that Fiona's eyes widened to give him an incredulous look.

The familiar voice sighed. "You're right. That would be cruel. We'll wait until she awakens. Bludger, go outside and make sure her guards didn't find us."

There was a sound of muttered cursing and the door opened and closed. There was a muffled thump, and more swearing. The clang of swords sounded from outside the small hut.

"What the-" Jarrod's captor exclaimed, but Fiona had realised that Parkin and Kinsley were taking care of Bludger and whoever else was out there, so she burst off of the bed, pulling the two daggers from her bodice.

She placed one in Jarrod's right hand, then whirled around to face her captor, and nearly dropped her weapon in shock.

"_Warren_?" she exclaimed, looking at the rather surprised cousin. "What? Why?"

"Now doesn't this sound familiar?" he said with an ironic twist to his mouth, although his light brown eyes remained hard and angry. "Where to begin? Oh yes. I want to be king."

He was crazy. That was the only explanation. But then Fiona's mind became quite worried when he drew a very long, very sharp looking sword. It made her dagger look like a butter knife.

"But this makes it so much easier," he said, stalking her like a tiger with its prey. He lunged at her, and brought his sword down. Fiona gave a bit of a shriek and jumped out of the way, as his sword shattered the chair.

"Can't fight back?" Warren mocked. "Typical. Women are so weak."

"So you're the one who planned all the attempts at Havara castle?" she asked. Perhaps if he kept talking, he would concentrate less on his fighting, and she would have a slim, slim chance of disarming him.

"Of course." He sneered, swinging at her again. She was rapidly running out of room to run, having made her way full circle around the table. "If you hadn't interfered, things would have gone a lot smoother."

He sighed. "You women were always ruining my plans. First Belinda had to go and screw Marcus, making Jarrod leave the house so he wasn't caught in the fire that I set. He even managed to save Tyrell." He spat this last out as if it was a personal insult.

"Then you went and foiled every single attempt I had to end his life. That's when I realised I had to kill you first."

"What about Tyrell?" she asked, defending a blow to her head. His sword clanged against her dagger with such force that it jarred her arm all the way to her shoulder. "He's in line after us," she got out through gritted teeth, scuttling backwards, cradling her arm.

Warren shrugged. "After the death of his entire family, it wouldn't have been too unbelievable if he suddenly found life unliveable."

"So you would just take the kingdom then?" Fiona asked, her eyes searching frantically for anything to help her. Why the heck hadn't Jarrod cut the bonds yet? She wanted to turn and yell at him, but she couldn't take her eyes off his cousin. "Do you not think that anyone would find it suspicious that the entire royal family has died under one circumstance or the other?"

"Of course, but most will be anxious to comfort the grieving cousin," Warren said, a superior look in his eyes. He swung at her again.

Someone up there must have liked her. She didn't know quite what happened, but as she was backing up, she caught her heel on a piece of the broken chair and fell backwards, his sword slicing the empty air above her head. Her feet shot up as she rolled onto her back, knocking his arm, sending his sword flying.

Sensing her advantage, Fiona scrambled to her feet, holding her dagger in front of her. Warren had drawn his dagger as well.

"You won't win. I have half of the Wild Men working for me. Besides, you're just an insignificant woman."

He lunged and Fiona felt his dagger go into her arm before she could even move to block it. She cried out, her hand opening reflexively, her dagger dropping. Warren pulled the blade out, and her other hand clapped over the wound instinctively, falling to her knees in shock.

"Women are so weak," he sneered, and aimed to plunge the dagger into her chest. A surprised look came over his face and the knife dropped from his hand.

The door opened and Tyrell burst in with half the castle guard on his heels.

"Warren?" he asked, sliding to a stop and lowering his sword slightly.

Warren opened his mouth, but no sound came out, merely a trickle of blood. Then his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he fell down.

Jarrod took the sword out of his cousin's back without a word, his eyes dark with pain.

He threw the sword away from him in disgust, and walked over to where Fiona was kneeling, and helped her to her feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked her softly, his hands stroking her hair, her ear, her eyebrow.

"No," she sniffed, trying to keep back tears. "He stabbed me in the shoulder!"

Amazingly, Jarrod's eyes contained a flash of humour. "Actually, he stabbed you in the arm." His fingers lightly brushed over the hand clasped over her injured bicep. "Can I see it?"

"No," she said, feeling light headed.

"Please?" He began tugging at her fingers. "I need to see how serious it is."

"I can't," she pleaded, shaking. "I can't stand the sight of my own blood. It makes me nauseous. Always has." Fiona could just imagine the torrent of blood that would come gushing out of her arm as soon as her fingers were gone.

"Darling, it isn't that bad." He gently pried her fingers away. "See? It's not-"

It was too late. Fiona had already fainted.


	30. Deal

Chapter Thirty: Deal

"I would never thought her to be so squeamish," Tyrell was saying as Dr. Broughten finished tying up her bandage.

"Especially since she stitched up my arm with barely a blink of an eye," Jarrod agreed, brushing back her bangs from her forehead tenderly.

"You can talk to her," Fiona said irritably, "as she was stabbed in the shoulder, not the ear." She was lying in her own bed, much to her relief. She had just been stabbed, for goodness sake. She didn't think she could put up with bad décor as well. Jarrod sat beside her on the bed, and she had her good hand entwined with his. Out of respect for her state of undress, Tyrell stood across the room.

Dr Broughten patted her thigh and stood. "You're very lucky. It didn't go through and bone and didn't hit anything major. It will heal fast. I don't worry. It's quite common to faint at the sight of blood."

"I don't faint at the sight of _any_ blood," Fiona defended herself, "just my own."

"How odd," Jarrod teased, "considering they're all the same colour."

"If you're going to continue to tease me," Fiona told him with a frown, "then I might just ask you to leave." As she made no move to separate her hand from his, Jarrod wasn't particularly worried about her threat.

Fiona looked around and noticed that Dr Broughten was gone, along with Tyrell, leaving the couple quite alone.

"You think they did that on purpose?" Fiona asked dryly.

"Most likely. Tyrell's a very astute brother."

Fiona sobered. "What are we going to do about Warren?" she asked softly.

Jarrod sighed, his face going blank. "I don't know."

"His mind had definitely twisted," Fiona said, giving Jarrod's hand a squeeze. "I almost feel sorry for him."

"It's hard for me to feel sorry for a misogynist and a killer," Jarrod said, his voice slightly harsh. His expression softened as he looked at his wife. "But then, you were always the kinder of us." He ran his lips over their entwined knuckles. "It's very confusing for me."

"Why?"

He teased a lock of hair between his fingers as he answered. "Warren is responsible for my family's death. He lit that fire that killed them."

"I know," Fiona murmured, and he gave her a small smile.

"Yes, I guess you were there." His expression grew angry again. "Warren killed my mother, my father, and my brother. Then he tried to kill me. Then he tried to kill you. But through it all-" here, his expression became slightly confused- "he was a good friend to me. He did his duties superbly. He was always kind." He shook his head. "I'm hoping not all of that was an act."

"I'm afraid you'll have to figure that out on your own," Fiona said. "I didn't know Warren that well." She sighed and settled back into the pillows. "It will be nice to have a normal marriage now, though."

The corners of Jarrod's mouth tucked up. "I didn't realise we had an abnormal marriage."

Fiona snorted. "As far as I know, Bernadette didn't go through any attempted killings when she first married."

Jarrod laughed. "I guess that's true. We did have a slightly rocky start." He leaned down until they were almost nose to nose. "But we'll be able to fix that."

"Oh good," Fiona said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Fiona, be careful of your arm," Jarrod warned.

She just gave him her most seductive smile possible. "I have the utmost confidence that you'll make me forget about it."

…

Fiona was walking towards her husband's study, on her way to politely inform him that it was time for dinner. She didn't mind anymore, she had realised that it wasn't usually a personal thing, he just lost track of time.

But as she passed the entrance to the great hall, something caught her eye.

It was Jarrod. He was standing in front of the portrait of his parents, and he looked as though he was _talking_ to them.

Intrigued, Fiona crept closer.

"I know, Mother, I was just as surprised as you," he was saying. "He didn't seem the type to do anything like that. We all mistook him. But don't worry, Fiona saved my life. Oh, Fiona's a wonderful wife. She's kind, loyal, funny, intelligent, beautiful. I'm extremely lucky to have her." Jarrod noticed caught Fiona's eye and smiled.

"But it's more than that. Fiona saved me. I was overburdened with terrible guilt, guilt I know realise that I had built up over and over again so it was greater than it was, and she helped me. She took my burdens on herself. She rescued me from the darkness of my own soul." Fiona reached him, and he reached out, taking both of her hands in his, turning to look directly into her eyes.

"I love her with all my heart, Mother. I don't think I could ever express how much I could possible love her."

Fiona's eyes filled with tears and she choked back a sob.

"Don't cry, darling," he said to her, brushing a tear away from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"I'm just so happy," she laughed through her tears. "I love you so much."

"I didn't think it could happen to me, but now I'm glad it did." His face dropped closer to hers as he whispered. "I love you, Fiona Par Drewery, and I always will."

Then he smiled.

This was what she had been waiting for since they had first met. His eyes were devoid of any sadness, and his smile was one of sweet sincerity and utter happiness. This was her husband's smile.

With a cry of delight, she crushed herself to him, burying her lips in his.

But then she broke off, giving him a mock frown. "If this is going to work," she said in a serious voice, "then I have to have you promise me something."

"Oh?" he said, brushing his thumbs over her temples. "And what would that be?"

"That I'm allowed to hit you whenever you start taking too much blame for something," she said.

He seemed to pause over it. "Alright, but only if I get a promise from you too."

"Which would be?"

"That I'm allowed to kiss you in any room of the castle."

Fiona grinned. "Deal," she said, and started with the Hall of Portraits


End file.
